Pie in the Sky
by strwbrygrl77
Summary: You deserve a lifetime of happiness with someone. Someone who knows you and loves you for the treasure you are; I know that this sounds like a pie in the sky idea . . ." A Mary/Marshall fic set 2 months after the episode "Don't Cry for Me, Albuquerque"
1. Chapter 1

****A/N: Here we go - my first IPS fic! Don't be too cruel with me! This is a work in progress - but my muse wouldn't leave me alone. Here's Part one. Enjoy!**

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_Pie in the Sky--_

_N. a fanciful notion; ludicrous concept; the illusory promise of a desired outcome that is unlikely to happen.

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_"I always say how I don't need you  
But it's always gonna come right back to this  
Please don't leave me_

_I forgot to say out loud how beautiful you really are to me  
I can't be without, you're my perfect little punching bag  
And I need you, I'm sorry. Please, don't leave me."_

-- **_Please Don't Leave Me, by PINK

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_Monday evening, 6:15 P.M. Mary's house  
_

"Marshall still isn't here?"

Brandi's head snapped up from where she was bent over her latest homework assignment at her sister's voice. She frowned as she took in Mary's appearance – sweat pants and tank top, hair pulled up into a loose ponytail and face that was slightly flushed from exertion. She really hoped that Mary hadn't overdone it by going for a power walk after her first day back at work.

"Peter just called. He said he and Raph should be here in a few minutes."

Mary yanked the ear buds out of her ears and turned her iPod off. "Squish, I wasn't asking about _Raph_! I was asking about Marshall – did he call?"

Brandi shook her head in confusion. "Why would he call the house? Didn't you take your cell with you?"

Mary rolled her eyes as she slapped her iPod on the charger. She yanked her cell out of her pocket as she sat next to her sister at the dining room table and waved the device a few inches from Brandi's face. "Have you ever known me to be without my phone? I'm just covering all the bases because I haven't heard from him since he told me he was headed back to Albuquerque. That was hours ago." Mary was biting her lip and furiously looking through her recent text messages, seeing if there was one she had missed.

Brandi was now even more concerned that Mary had done too much today. It had barely been two months since Mary had been shot in the stomach and had nearly died as a result. For three days her big sister had been unconscious after surgery. Then they had been waiting for her to open her eyes – hell, wondered if she _would_ open her eyes - and those had been the longest 72 hours of Brandi Shannon's life. But Mary had clung to life with the tenacity she was known for – and now to see her sitting at their dining table, scrolling through text messages and swearing under her breath, Brandi couldn't help but breathe a short prayer of thanksgiving.

Mary looked up from her phone to see Brandi looking at her but not really focusing on her – her little sister appeared lost in thought and her eyes were tearing up. _Damn it! Everyone is still walking on eggshells around me since the shooting – I've got to figure out a way to make them stop before they all drive me MAD! _ "Squish?" Mary said gently. "Where did you go? Are you OK?"

Brandi re focused with Mary's words and blinked her eyes rapidly in an attempt to keep from crying. She knew tears made her sister uncomfortable – and she had cried too much in her presence over the past few weeks as it was. She did, however, reach out and grab Mary's hand, squeezing it tightly.

"I'm just so glad you're still here with us." Her words made Mary squirm slightly in her chair and Brandi laughed lightly. "So how was your walk? Are you sure it wasn't too much after your first day back at work?"

Mary blew out her breath in an exasperated sigh. "No Squish, it wasn't too much. The doctor said I need to push my limits – how am I going to regain my full stamina otherwise?"

Brandi laughed again as she got up to get Mary some iced tea. "Yeah, that doctor had no idea what he was saying when he told _you_ to push your limits! But you still have some restrictions, right?"

Mary took the glass from Brandi and took a nice long swig before replying. "Damn doctor! Yes, no heavy lifting, no driving, and no sex."

Brandi's eyes widened. "Oh, poor Chico."

"What about me?" Mary demanded.

Brandi patted Mary's hand in consolation. "Of course I feel your frustration too, Mary. Is that why you've been such a bear lately?"

"I am _so_ not having this conversation with you, Squish." Mary pulled herself to her feet and started walking towards the bathroom. "I'm going to take a shower and if Marshall's not here when I get out I'm going to call him and rip him a new set of. . . ." her words were cut off as she slammed and locked the bathroom door.

"Marshall is coming over _again_?"

Brandi's head snapped up for the second time in less than an hour as Raph's irritated voice reached her ears from where he stood by the Shannon's front door.

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The hot water poured over Mary's body, washing away the sweat that had accumulated during her 'power walk'. _God I had that term! It sounds like something little old ladies in matching hot pink or aqua track suits do in packs, not kick-ass US Marshalls! _She sighed and adjusted the water stream so that it would work on some of the knots in her shoulders. She missed the days when she would go running with Marshall after work – hopefully her energy level and her muscles strong enough to let her get back to that routine soon.

She had missed Marshall's presence in the office today – and she knew that it had killed him not to be there on her first official day back after the shooting, even if she was just riding the desk for awhile. The last time she had seen him was four nights ago when he had broken the news about the transfer.

"_So I have some bad news." _

_Mary tilted her head from her position on his shoulder so she could look him in the eye. They had just finished watching a marathon of NCIS. "Don't tell me – you're really gay and you have a secret crush on Tony."_

_Marshall's face broke into a smile. "No, Cowgirl – I won't be there on Monday."_

_It took her a minute to process his words and then a moment of panic set in. "You said you'd never leave."_

"_Mer – no, I'm not leaving you. I could never do that." He gathered her closer to his side, running his hand up and down her arm soothingly. After a few moments, he continued. "Sally Stevens has to be transferred."_

_Mary pulled away from him. "Fuck! That asshole found her?"_

"_Not yet – but he's close. He's hired private detectives and they're closing in. Stan and I both think that the danger is high enough that I need to get her out of Albuquerque."_

_Mary nodded her agreement and settled onto the opposite end of the couch. "So tell me the game plan."_

_Marshall shook his head. "Mer, it's not your concern. Stan would have my ass in a sling if he knew I was still talking to you about cases when you're supposed to be taking it easy. You're coming back on light duty, remember?"_

_Mary snorted and shoved her foot into his upper thigh, barely missing a vital organ. She chortled when he shot her a dark look. "Spill it, numb nuts. We're partners and Sally is still MY witness. Besides, you may come up with the plan but we always tweak it together."_

_With a sigh, Marshall gave in and told her about Sally's transfer to Salt Lake. Mary listened with eagerness and a strong stab of envy, realizing that he would have to make this transfer without her. She pointed out one or two areas that use improvement or backup. Marshall grinned, nodded, and made notes on his laptop._

"_So Cowgirl, is there anything you want me to bring you back from Utah?"_

"_Are you kidding me? With your twisted sense of humor, you'd probably bring me back a bag of salt!"_

"_Hey, I never thought of that!" Marshall mused, which earned him another kick in his thigh. _

"_Doofus!" But she said it softly, without any bite._

"_You know, I'll be passing right through Cedar City – want me to stop at Joe's?"_

_Mary's stomach rumbled in hunger and her mouth watered as she thought of the little mom and pop diner they had discovered in Utah while transferring witnesses to Salt Lake City. "Not fair! You get to have the world's best banana cream pie without me!"_

"_I'll bring you some back if you ask nicely."_

"_Yeah, right! How in the world are you going to keep a cream pie from melting between Utah and New Mexico?"_

"_I'll think of something – I know it's your favorite."_

_Mary uncurled from the end of the couch and stretched out beside him again, laying her head on his shoulder. "That's mighty nice of you, cowboy. I do like that pie."_

"_Hey, did you know that the first pies were actually invented by the ancient Egyptians and were called 'coffins' because the crusts were thick and inedible? That's because the crust themselves were the actual baking dish and people only ate the inside filling. Pies that didn't have top crusts were called 'traps' which is pretty funny because when you tell me to 'shut my trap'-"_

_With a loud groan Mary sat up and grabbed a couch pillow and shoved it over Marshall's face. "Are you fucking kidding me?! Pie trivia? Shut your fucking trap, Marshall!"_

_Marshall began to shake in laughter and pulled Mary to him in a hug. Soon both partners were shaking in uncontrollable mirth._

Mary's memory of that night faded as she realized the water had run tepid and she knew she must have been in here for a while. Shutting off the water and stepping out of the shower, she began to dry herself off with a fluffy towel. Looking at her cell phone she had placed on the counter she saw that another thirty minutes had elapsed and still no word had arrived from Marshall.

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****So, what did you think? Please review!****


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N **Thanks for reviewing my first IPS story! Sorry for the wait - here's Part Two!

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_"Well you done done me and you bet I felt it  
I tried to be chill but you're so hot that I melted  
I fell right through the cracks  
Now I'm trying to get back  
Before the cool done run out  
I'll be giving it my bestest  
And nothing's going to stop me but divine intervention  
I reckon it's again my turn to win some or learn some"_

-- **_I'm Yours, by Jason Mraz

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_Monday evening, 6:30 P.M._

Raph added more ice to his large tumbler of iced tea and wished for the hundredth time it was beer. But ever since he had moved into the Shannon household he had respected Mary's wishes that there be no alcohol in the house because Jinx really, truly was trying to stay on the wagon this time. Mary of course had snorted in derision when she had said those words to him and Raph had the strong impression that she thought it was only a matter of time before her mom slipped and had a drink. But with Brandi dating Peter and him being strongly involved in Al-Anon, perhaps things would be different this time around; when Raph had reminded Mary to think positively, she had looked at him like he had just said that he could make purple rain.

Raph stretched his long frame out on the couch and tried to relax as he waited for Mary to emerge from the bathroom. She had locked herself in – again. When he asked why she felt it necessary to do this, she had jumped down his throat: _"It's the only place in MY house that I can get some privacy – you people have taken over every other room! And thanks to the damn doctor and his restrictions it's not like we could do anything in there but take a shower!"_ Raph exhaled loudly in frustration. He never knew what was going to set Mary off these days. She was even more irritable since coming home from the hospital. In the beginning, he had been so relieved that she was going to make it that nothing else seemed to matter. _Not even the fact that she woke up calling for Marshall, _he grimaced with the memory.

When Stan had called to tell them that Mary had been shot on the job, Brandi and Jinx were scared and confused because they really had no idea what she did every day. Raph had to bite his tongue all the way to the hospital to keep from spilling the beans as Jinx and Brandi kept asking how this could have happened to Mary when she was 'safe and sound' at the courthouse all day. When they crashed through the doors of the hospital waiting room and saw Marshall's tear stained face, Raph feared Mary was dead. Stan was quick to reassure them that Mary was still alive but her condition was critical – Marshall didn't say a word for a while. Mary had to be stabilized before the surgery could be performed and then she had lain in ICU, unconscious, for three days.

Raph took a long drink of iced tea. Those three days of waiting had been some of the longest of his life. Looking back now, they all blurred together. Jinx and Brandi spent most of the day with Mary and he came as soon as he could get off work. Raph rarely ran into Marshall during those three days – but he knew the marshal had been there. On the second afternoon he found a copy of "The Three Musketeers" by Mary's bedside. Knowing that this book was not on either of the Shannon women's reading lists, he asked the attending nurse about it.

"_Oh, that book belongs to Mary's partner, Marshall. He comes late in the evening and stays most of the night with her, reading. He must have forgotten it last night."_

Raph's blood still burned as he remembered another man spending the night with his fiancée while she was in such a compromising position. He would have gladly stayed the night with Mary but he was kicked out with the 'common' people when regular visiting hours were over. Marshall used his US Marshal status to stay by his partner's bedside all through the night. Raph felt violated on Mary's behalf – and he wondered if she even knew about her nighttime visitor.

Raph gave a snort of disgust as an inner demon said: _She wouldn't have been surprised that Marshall was by her side, would she? After all, she woke up calling for him not you. _He contemplated his half full glass of iced tea and again wished for something stronger.

_It was late afternoon on the third day after her surgery that Raph noticed Mary starting to wake up. She would move her left foot a little, then her right hand. Raph's heart began to beat faster – she was going to wake up! After about five minutes of lying perfectly still again, Mary gave a soft groan – then another. With her eyes still closed, she whispered,_

"_Marshall?"_

_Raph's heart fell. He simply couldn't believe it – she was asking for her idiot partner? Before her fiancée?_

"_Marshall?" This time it was a little stronger but sounded confused and a bit uncertain as Mary finally opened her eyes._

"_No Mary, it's me, Raph."_

_Her eyes rested on him and he gave her a moment to focus. "Hi," she said softly. "What happened?"_

_Raph's eyes faltered away from hers, not sure how to answer. "Do you remember anything?"_

_Mary's hand fluttered to her stomach. "I think I got shot."_

"_Yes, but that's all I know."_

_Mary nodded. "I need to talk to Marshall. Can you call him?"_

_Raph gave her a look of disbelief. "You just woke up – don't you want me to call your mom and Brandi? Can't we talk for a bit first?"_

"_Raph, we'll have plenty of time to talk later," Mary's 'take no prisoners' voice was back. "I need to talk to my partner, now."_

He had given in, of course. Mary just wouldn't let things go and he wanted to make her happy. But they never really got the time to talk again. As soon as everyone knew she was awake, Mary was surrounded by Jinx, Brandi, Stan, some woman from the office named Eleanor, and of course Marshall. He never left – first to arrive and last to leave. Mary seemed to grit her teeth and bear everyone's interference, except Marshall's – he seemed to make her smile, even laugh before she was ready.

"_Don't do that, Doofus! My muscles aren't recovered enough for gaiety yet!"_

"_I can't help it if you find this book funny, Mer. If you want, I can stop reading-"_

"_No! We're just getting to the good part!"_

_Raph had just arrived from work to find Marshall in the chair by Mary's bedside, with his cowboy boots on the floor. His stocking feet were propped up on her bed and "The Three Musketeers" was open in his lap; Mary was tilted up in the bed, clutching her side, and smiling._

"_Mary, are you in pain?" Raph demanded from the doorway._

_Both partners' swiveled their heads in Raph's direction. Marshall waved a hand in greeting and Mary dropped the hand that had been clutching her side._

"_No, I'm not. Just laughing a bit too hard and my muscles are complaining."_

_Mary's doctor walked into the room. "But laughter is the best medicine! What made you laugh?"_

_Marshall held up the book so the doctor could see the title. "A classic – and a great story, I approve. I guess I don't have to ask how you're feeling today, Miss Shannon?"_

_Mary's smile turned to a scowl. "I'd feel better if you'd spring me!"_

"_Well, I do have some good news on that front. You've been doing well in physical therapy and exercising on your own. But I would like to see you eating solid food before I discharge you."_

_Mary's scowl deepened. "You seriously call the food you give us to eat here 'solid'? You mean like rock solid?"_

_Marshall laughed out loud as Raph grimaced. "Now Mary, the doctor really is trying to help you get out of here."_

_The doctor nodded in sympathy as he headed for the door. His parting words were, "Perhaps your friends could smuggle you in some 'real' food. Just don't let anyone else know it was my idea!"_

_Raph came and sat on Mary's bed, reaching for her hand. She raised her eyebrow in surprise but didn't pull her hand back. "What have you been missing, Mary? What food are you craving?"_

_Mary and Marshall answered in unison. "Chocolate."_

_Raph shot the other man a look of astonishment. How did he know that about Mary? _

_Marshall gave Raph an unintelligible look. "When Mary's desk drawer is filled with Dove chocolates and she wants to stop for Frosty's at least twice a week, it's not hard to figure out that your partner has a passion for chocolate."_

The next day on the way to the hospital, Raph stopped and picked up Mary's surprise. He just knew she was going to love it – it was chocolate, after all.

"_No, I don't want the cupcake, Raph."_

"_But Mary – it's chocolate. You said you wanted chocolate!"_

_Mary blew out a breath before replying. "Yes I did. But I don't want the damn cupcake."_

"_Why not?" He hoped that didn't sound as whiny as he feared it did._

"_Because the frosting is three fucking inches high – it's all gooey and – no!"_

_Raph's eyebrows knit together in confusion as his romantic gesture went up in smoke._

_Just then Marshall sailed through the door carrying a simple paper bag. Mary's eyes lit on it immediately in interest. "What's in the bag, cowboy?"_

"_Mann's House of Pie – we deliver. Today's special is-" and here he paused and waved the bag in front of Mary's eyes slowly._

"_Is that from Maggie's?" she gasped._

"_Yup. You get three guesses to name the flavor and the first two don't count."_

"_Chocolate peanut butter?! Hand it over!" Mary cried._

_Raph's anger was barely being held in check. Here he had planned a romantic surprise for Mary only to have her turn her nose up at it – and THEN she dives at the offering from her partner. He needed a beer, several beers, now._

"_Mary, I'm going to call it a night. I'll see you tomorrow."_

_Mary slowly turned from Marshall's bag that he was now unpacking to look at Raph. Her face instantly filled with remorse. "I'm sorry about the cupcake, Raph. It's just too-"_

"_It's ok. We'll talk about it later." He gave her a quick peck on the lips and fled out the door. As he walked away he heard Marshall tell Mary that the rest of the pie was in her fridge at home. Raph was almost out of earshot but he still managed to hear Mary's reply: "I love you like an eight dollar whore."_

_Raph stopped in his tracks. What did THAT mean? Did she love Marshall? And what was with all the nicknames she had for Marshall: cowboy, doofus, idiot, numb nuts? She had not given him any nicknames – the most she had done was shorten his name from Raphael to Raph. It was Marshall who had snuck into the hospital and stayed with her all night – he knew about her chocolate obsession. Marshall had a key to her house and knew where everything went inside. Was it possible that Marshall knew Mary better than her own fiancée did?_

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_**Well, what did you think? This part took on a life of its own - longer than I thought it would be - and more of Raph next chapter. Where is Marshall? Please Read and Review!**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Forgot my disclaimer: I own nothing!! Are Mary and Marshall together?? NO?? Then of course I own nothing and am just playing around with the characters! Enjoy

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_"I'm a bitch, I'm a lover  
I'm a child, I'm a mother  
I'm a sinner, I'm a saint  
I do not feel ashamed.  
I'm your hell, I'm your dream  
I'm nothing in between  
You know you wouldn't want it any other way"_

_-- **Bitch, by Meredith Brooks

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**Monday evening, 7:15 P.M.  
_

Mary emerged from the bathroom in a cloud of steam, her body wrapped in a towel and her hair still dripping water from the ends. She cocked her head to the side to listen for voices coming from the living area but all she heard was silence. Padding softly toward her room she nearly jumped out of her towel at the sound of Raph's voice.

"Mary? Querida? Are you finally done in the bathroom?"

Mary rolled her eyes at the term of endearment and switched directions, heading for the front living room instead of her bedroom. Raph raised his glass in a toast from his reclined position on the sofa as her eyes swept the room looking for Marshall. _Damn it! Where is he?_

Raph noticed Mary's glance about the room and his scowl deepened. "Marshall isn't here yet – just in case you think he's outside lounging by the pool with Brandi, Peter and Jinx."

Mary's gaze settled on Raph for the first time and took in the pose that wasn't in reality as relaxed as he would have her think and the fact that his eyes were snapping fire.

Mary's eyebrow arched as she answered, "Who pissed in your drink today?"

Raph looked at Mary's stance and knew that he shouldn't upset her – knew that she was probably exhausted after her first day back at work, even though she would never admit it. He sighed, "It was a long day, Mary. I was hoping to come home and relax with you. Maybe talk about how your first day back was and-"

"Damn it Raph!" Just that quickly, Mary's hackles were raised and Raph involuntarily flinched at her tone. "I've told you that I can't discuss my job with you! I told you _what I am _to stop you from asking all these questions about what I do all day!" Mary was beginning to pace, running one hand through her hair to help dry it faster while the other hand was clutching the towel so it didn't fall off her.

"But you're on desk duty," Raph was puzzled by her outburst. "You aren't dealing with witnesses – I thought we could talk about how happy your co-workers were to have you back, what you felt like being back."

_He's not backing down – and seriously, he wants me to talk about my feelings? _"Raph, it was fine, ok?" Mary said through clenched teeth. "Can I go get some clothes on before Marshall gets here?"

Now it Raph's turn to be angry, "Mary, I don't want him to come over tonight."

Mary had already been in the process of heading back to her room when Raph's words hit her in the back like a sledgehammer. He watched as her spine snapped straight and she turned slowly back towards him. "What did you say?"

"I told you – it was a long day, for both of us and I just want to relax with you without your partner. Besides he was with you all day," Raph pleaded his case.

_Breathe, just breathe. You aren't strong enough yet to whip his ass – and he has no idea that Marshall has been away on assignment and may be in trouble. _Mary narrowed her eyes and gave Raph the silent treatment.

Raph was beginning to get uncomfortable. Mary hadn't said anything in answer to his demand that Marshall not come over – she was just standing there staring at him, coldly. He got the feeling that he was in one of those American Western movie shootouts where the good guy and the bad guy have a stare down before drawing.

The tension was momentarily broken as the back door opened and Brandi came in. "Mary? Has Marshall called you back yet?"

Mary's eyes never left Raph's face as she, "No Squish, he hasn't."

Brandi looked from her sister to Raph in concern. She had definitely interrupted something here. Grabbing the iced tea pitcher and a couple of glasses she headed for the back door again. But she couldn't help asking, "You don't think he's in any kind of trouble, do you?"

The knot of fear that had been slowly building in Mary's stomach over the past hour tightened. "I hope not. But if he is –" she left her sentence unfinished as she went down the hall and slammed her bedroom door.

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Before Brandi beat a hasty retreat out the back door again, Raph got a little information out of her. Mary and Marshall hadn't been working together today because Marshall had been out of town on assignment.

"So why is he coming over here instead of going home to relax?" Raph asked Brandi.

Brandi looked at Chico in confusion – did he really not know how close Mary and Marshall were? "Because he's been checking up on Mary almost every day since she got out of the hospital – and he hasn't been by since Thursday night. He's probably just coming by to say hello, ask how her day was, you know, partner stuff." And Brandi had escaped back to Peter and her mother.

Raph didn't hear much after the words "Thursday night" – he remembered that night. He had told Mary that he would be really late coming home that night because some of his buddies were coming in from out of town and they were going for a drink after work. She had merely shrugged and told him to try not to wake anyone when he came home drunk.

_Raph was surprised to see Marshall's truck at the end of the driveway when his friends dropped him off a little after midnight. As he stumbled for the front door, he wondered what the marshal was doing here so late. He took a minute to take a few deep breaths, get the key in the lock, and then pushed open the door as Mary's voice floated out into the still night air:_

"_Are you fucking kidding me?! Pie trivia? Shut your fucking trap, Marshall!"_

_Raph pushed the door open softly and stood in the doorway, staring at the scene in front of him. Mary was straddling Marshall's lap on the couch, holding a couch pillow over her partner's face and laughing. Marshall's hands were moving up from her thighs to her ribs and ever so slowly his fingers began to wiggle against her ribs. Mary squirmed on Marshall's lap and her grip on the pillow began to falter as she let go with one hand to swat at one of his._

"_Stop it! -- I'm injured! -- You're attacking -- an injured --- girl!" she gasped between squeals of laughter._

_The pillow fell to the floor and Marshall's red face met Mary's. "You're no girl." Marshall's hands stilled on her ribs but they didn't move._

_Raph heard Mary's intake of breath and she put a hand to her side. Marshall was instantly concerned and leaned his head close to hers – Raph pushed himself off the door frame and walked unsteadily into the room._

"_Get your hands off my fiancé, Marshall."_

_Mary and Marshall looked up at Raph in surprise. Marshall looked like he had been caught with his hand in the cookie jar – but Mary's face quickly turned to one of disgust._

"_Welcome home, honey. You stink." She untangled herself from Marshall's lap and crossed to Raph's side._

"_Don't change the subject," Raph demanded, proud that his speech was only slightly slurred. "What's going on here?"_

_Marshall had picked up his jacket and was preparing to leave. "Mary and I watched a marathon of NCIS."_

"_That's all? What about what I walked in on?"_

_Mary snorted. "Our tickle fight? Marshall was spouting trivia and I was trying to shut him up. He retaliated by tickling me – it's not like we were getting ready to have sex, Raph."_

_Raph could have sworn Marshall blushed but it was too dim in the room for him to be positive. "That's a good one, cowgirl. Maybe once the doctor gives you your spurs back –" Marshall teased._

"_Idiot!" Mary cried and heaved the couch pillow at Marshall who just laughed and dodged the missile as he went out the front door._

Mary never really explained what Raph had walked in on that night – just repeated that it was her and Marshall having fun. But Mary never had that kind of fun with him. They had always had an amazing physical connection – but the sex was on hold until she was fully healed. Mary was not the cuddling type so he could not even 'spoon' or hold her in sleep at night. Raph often wondered if he could hold her hand when they went for walks or if she would punch him.

He thought that once she got home from the hospital things would be better – they could be close again. No one would be able to separate them, tell him that visiting hours were over and that it was time to leave. With Mary off work for a bit, she would have some free time and they could finally get serious about planning their wedding. Raph had quickly learned that Mary's ideas were vastly different from his.

"_Querida, I took the day off so that we could make some wedding plans."_

_Mary was reading the newspaper out by the pool. She looked up at Raph in surprise. "Like what?"_

_Raph sat next to her and began to talk excitedly. "I thought we could drive around to some of the churches and cathedrals in town – get a feel for where we would like the wedding to take place."_

_Mary tried not to laugh. "I'm not really a church wedding type of girl, Raph."_

_Raph's face puckered in confusion. "But I thought you were Catholic."_

"_I was raised Catholic – I don't exactly practice the religion or attend Mass on even a semi-regular basis. Hey Squish, when was the last time I went to confession?" Mary asked her sister who was desperately trying to look like she was reading her fashion magazine and not listening to their conversation._

_Brandi raised her head and locked eyes with Mary, trying not to laugh. Finally she smiled very broadly and said, "I'm not sure – when you lost your virginity?"_

_Raph looked horrified but Mary looked thoughtful. "Sounds about right – I would have been fourteen. Wow, I should go again sometime, huh?"_

_Now Brandi did laugh outright. "Just don't ask me how long it's been since I've been!"_

_The sisters shared a smile and then Mary turned her attention back to Raph, who was trying not to look disappointed. "What? Come on, Raph! Surely you know me well enough to know that I don't want a church wedding!"_

"_Well, where do you want to get married?"_

_Mary snapped her newspaper open again. "I don't want a lot of fuss and nonsense. Something simple – we can just apply for a license and get married in front of a justice of the peace at the courthouse."_

_She missed the look of pain that flashed across his face. "What – on your lunch break?"_

_His tone made both sisters put down their reading material. Brandi and Mary exchanged glances and Brandi wordlessly got up to give them some privacy._

_Mary turned her full attention to Raph. She paused, trying to consider what to say before it actually flew out her mouth. "Raph, I'm not Cinderella. I have never dreamed of a fairy tale wedding."_

_Raph looked at her in disbelief. "I can't believe that. Every girl wants to be a princess – be swept off her feet by Prince charming – and live happily ever after. A big fairy tale wedding is part of that."_

_Mary shook her head sadly. "Not everybody wants the same things – and it's been a long time since I thought of myself as a princess."_

_Raph reached out and brushed hair back from her face. "You're my princess."_

_Mary flinched as if he had struck her. She jumped out of her chair and tried to run but Raph caught her, spun her back to him. _

"_Mary, what did I say?"_

"_Please don't – don't call me that." Her eyes were filled with tears and she was shaking and she knew that she was going to fall apart any minute. She needed . . . needed . . . anger. Yes, her friend anger. Mary squared her shoulders and looked Raph boldly in the eye. "I'm not your princess – I'm not anyone's princess. I don't want a frilly, decked out church wedding! I don't want six bridesmaids, a limo, a five-tiered cake, a dress with so much tulle that I can't find me in it – I don't want any of that – all right?"_

_Raph was silent for a long moment as he looked at this woman who was his fiancé – he loved her so much, but did he even really know her? One minute she was falling apart for some reason that only she knew and the next she was emotionally pushing him away so hard he thought he'd never find his way back._

_Raph took a deep breath. "What do you want, Mary?"_

_Mary opened her mouth to give him a cheeky answer and then closed it just as quickly. Did she even know?_

_Just then the back door opened and Jinx came out with Marshall in her wake. "Mary, Marshall's here with fresh croissants from that French bakery you like."_

_Mary met Marshall's eyes and he smiled at her. "Good morning, cowgirl. You're looking better today. You're still here, Raph? Good thing I brought extra – but good luck wrestling one away from Mary," Marshall laughed as he moved over to the table where Jinx was already sitting._

"_I guess croissants aren't too frilly for you, Mary?" Raph choked out as he headed for the door. "Especially if you really want them."_

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**Hmm, is Raph finally seeing the light?**

**Read and Review, please!  
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	4. Chapter 4

**** This part's a bit shorter than the others BUT . . . the man of the hour is finally here -- MARSHALL!! ****

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"What hurts the most  
was being so close,

And having so much to say  
and watching you walk away,  
and never knowing  
what could have been  
and not seeing that loving you  
is what I was tryin' to do."

--What hurts the most, Rascal Flatts

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_2:45 A.M. Sunday morning, 40 hours earlier_

Marshall awoke gasping for breath, fingers clutching for the thin sheets as his skin was suddenly chilled from the sweat that had come from his nightmare. Sitting up and running a hand wearily through his hair, he leaned back against the wall, trying to get his breathing and heart rate under control. _Come on Mann, get it together. It was just a dream. You're not in that hospital corridor; she's not on that gurney rushing to the ER with no heartbeat. She's alive and well – no doubt fast asleep next to her Dominican fiancé at this time of night._ Without a conscious thought, Marshall reached out for his cell phone on his night stand but stopped short of pushing the speed dial. He glanced at the clock and sighed – it was almost three o'clock in the morning. He had to be on the road in a few hours, with Sally, alone. He desperately needed a few more hours of sleep and he didn't know if that was going to be possible if he couldn't hear her voice. But to be selfish and wake her at this time of night while she was still recovering – as her keeper, he couldn't justify that action. With another world weary sigh, Marshall climbed to his feet and made his way to the kitchen. Filling a glass with ice and then water he shuffled over to the couch and turned on the TV. He flipped channels for ten minutes before finally putting it on CNN and turning the volume down low.

_The dream was always the same – Marshall found himself back in that hospital corridor, chasing after Mary as she was being wheeled to the emergency room. In the dream, he felt like he was running in place – and he could never catch up to her side. Marshall reached the doors just as they were closing behind her and the nurse was pushing him out, telling him he had to wait outside. He watched through the little door windows as the doctors and nurses worked feverishly over Mary – and he watched with tears and in horror as they pulled out the paddles and tried to jumpstart her heart back into rhythm. Marshall broke down completely when the doctor finally stopped and pronounced "Time of death"_ – and then with shuddering gasps, Marshall would wake up.

Marshall took several sips of ice cold water. The dream had been his constant companion since Mary's shooting – and there was only remedy for his demons and any hope for the return of the sandman. That remedy was Mary's calming presence – as soon as that thought entered Marshall's brain, he laughed. No one who had ever encountered his exotic animal of a partner had ever thought of her as a calming influence – but she had the ability to chase his monsters away. Of course, this was without her knowledge since he had never shared this information with her – she would gloat too much! In the beginning when Marshall had the nightmares, when he awoke he was at Mary's bedside in the hospital. She may not have been awake yet – but she was alive and breathing. Marshall could hold her hand and even press a quick kiss to her temple. After she had regained consciousness, he had stopped giving her the kiss – he was afraid that she would wake up and clock him. But he still held her hand.

Then she was well enough to go home from the hospital and for the first couple of nights, Marshall was so relieved and exhausted that he slept like the dead. But on the third night the nightmares returned – and his sleeping pattern had been interrupted ever since. He couldn't really call her up in the middle of the night and say: "I had a bad dream, Mer. Can you come over and stay with me until I fall asleep again?" _Yeah, right, _Marshall rolled his eyes; _Mary would love to get a late night call like that from me. I can hear her now: 'God Marshall, you're such a girl!'_ Marshall giggled – just picturing how his partner would react to his nightmare demons was helping.

He was startled out of his thoughts by the ring of his cell phone. Glancing at the clock he saw it was now 3:15 in the morning and he was instantly on alert – was there trouble with a witness? But he relaxed and smiled when he looked at the caller ID.

He answered on the second ring. "House of Pie."

"Marshall?" Mary's voice was soft on the other end, like she was trying not to wake the other people in her house. "Why do you sound so wide awake at this ungodly hour?"

Marshall swore under his breath – he really should have sounded sleepy when he answered. "I wasn't asleep – too wired for the transfer, I guess."

There was a bit of silence on her end before she asked, "Bad dreams?"

Marshall's breath left his lungs in a whoosh. He had forgotten that his partner could really be quite intuitive and observant at times.

"Marshall, are you there?"

"I'm here, Mer. The monsters under my bed are gone now – your growl scared them away."

"God Marshall, you're such a girl."

He giggled – he'd gotten her to say it! "Why are you up?"

There was silence on the other end and Marshall tried to picture where in the house she was. "Just thinking about stuff – you know, going back to work on Monday – you doing the transfer today. . ." her voice trailed off.

"I'll be okay, Mer. Stan offered to go with me – but I can't really see the two of us on a road trip together and besides that would leave you and Eleanor alone in the office on Monday. I don't think you'd both be alive when we got back Tuesday."

Mary chortled. "Me and Eleanor – alone in the office? Hmm, that has possibilities."

"Down, cowgirl."

"Hey, I can play nice."

"You're kidding right? You don't play well with others." Marshall laughed.

"Hey, I didn't call you to be insulted, numb nuts."

"You know I love you." The words just slipped out – and Marshall closed his eyes in pain. He did love her, in every sense of the word. But Mary was terrified of the word, of commitment, and didn't share his feelings. He heard her intake of breath through the phone but he quickly added, "So, why did you call?"

"I was awake."

"And so you thought I should be awake too? Nice, Mer." He paused before adding, "You had a nightmare." It wasn't a question – and Marshall waited to see if she would open up to him.

"I really hate that you're doing this transfer without me – and I guess that triggered the memory that became the nightmare." Her words came out in a whispered rush and he had to strain to hear them.

"What was it about?"

"Horst."

Marshall remembered all too well the case that turned into his worst nightmare come to life as he got shot in the chest which led to dying declarations of love to Mary. Of course to her they sounded like 'best friends forever' declarations – but to Marshall, he had meant so much more. He had interviewed with a security agency and actually entertained the idea of leaving the US Marshal Service – leaving her – for about two minutes. Getting shot during the Horst case made him realize that no matter how much it hurt, he could never leave her – even if they could never be more than partners.

Marshall took a deep breath. "I didn't die Mer. I said that I would try not to, for you – remember?"

"I remember." Mary's reply sounded forced and he wondered if she was trying not to cry. "Hey, what was your nightmare about?" She suddenly demanded.

"I don't recall telling you I had one."

"You're a terrible liar," Mary chided softly and he smiled in response. After a few moments of silence she added, "Hey Doofus, I didn't die either – for you."

Marshall thought for a minute that he wouldn't be able to breathe – he wondered if this was as close as Mary Shannon got to saying the words: 'I love you'.

He heard Mary whisper to someone else in the room and then she was back talking to him. "I have to go, cowboy. You be safe today and you better not get yourself shot!" she threatened.

"I'll try not to – for you." _I love you, Mary._

"Call me when Sally's safe? And when you're on the way back home? We need to celebrate my first day back to work."

"We do? You, Mary Shannon, want a party?"

"Asking my partner over for ribs or pizza is not a party! Just call me!"

"Yes dear."

Her answering laugh was cut off as she disconnected and Marshall collapsed back into his couch with a goofy smile on his face. Noticing that he still had two hours before his alarm went off, he turned off the TV and headed back to bed. He knew he would be able to sleep now.

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****Anyone else just LOVE Marshall? Oh, I don't own the song at the beginning either --. Please Review!!****


	5. Chapter 5

***A/N: Hello everyone! Thanks to all who have alerted/favorited my story - but I would still love to hear your thoughts about my story! Here's another chapter from Marshall's POV*  
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"_Oh I remember you driving to my house in the middle of the night  
I'm the one who makes you laugh when you know you're about to cry  
I know your favorite songs and you tell me about your dreams  
I think I know where you belong. I think I know it's with me._

_Can't you see that I'm the one who understands you?  
Been here all along so why can't you see?  
You belong with me"_

_--__**You Belong with Me, by Taylor Swift**_

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_7 A.M. Sunday morning_

Marshall Mann saw the unmarked car with the man inside trying to look inconspicuous as soon as he turned onto the street where Sally's apartment was located. His instincts began screaming: _Danger, Will Robinson! _as he whipped out his cell and pushed the speed dial for Stan's home.

Stan answered on the second ring with a garbled, "Hmrph – hello?"

Marshall allowed himself a small smile despite the tightness in his gut. "Sorry cupcake, did I wake you?"

"Who is – Marshall?" Stan was instantly alert. "Is there trouble?"

"Possibly. I'm just getting to Sally's to pick her up and imagine my surprise to discover that there's someone watching the building – but trying not to look like he is, if you get my drift."

Marshall could tell by the muffled sounds coming from the other end that Stan was getting up and hurriedly pulling on clothes. "How do you want to proceed?"

"I'll go in and get Sally, see if the guy follows us. If he does, I'll call you back and we'll meet at the diner on fourth for breakfast. After that – how about the shell game?"

"Sounds good – I'll wake Eleanor and we'll be ready to meet you if necessary."

It was. The guy didn't even do a very good job of hiding his tailing – but in his defense there wasn't much traffic on the side streets at this early hour on a Sunday morning. Sally was scared and just wanted to get out of town. She couldn't believe that they were stopping for breakfast – told him that anything she ate was likely to come right back up. Marshall told her that it was all part of the plan and that everything was all right. Sally looked at the lanky marshal and muttered under her breath,

"I wish Mary was here."

Marshall winced. _Me too._

Stan and Eleanor met them at the diner and the four of them had a very nice breakfast together. They all tried to ignore the man that slipped inside shortly after they took a corner booth – but Stan was facing the door and gave a full description to Eleanor for the police. After Marshall paid the bill, operation 'shell game' got under way. Marshall and Sally got back into his GMC – while Stan and Eleanor each got into matching ones from the office. They drove caravan style to a parking garage with their tail following a few cars behind. Once they entered the parking garage, Marshall told Sally to get in the back and lay down; she complied with a whimper. The three GMC's circled the inside of the parking garage like it was an amusement park ride – and the cars passed each other multiple times to keep the tail guessing which car Sally was riding in. Eventually, their tail was hopelessly confused and guessed wrong – he followed Stan's GMC out of the parking garage.

Sally screamed at Marshall from the floor of the backseat, telling him if they didn't get off this roller coaster soon she was going to throw up her buttermilk pancakes down his neck. Marshall laughed and told her to stay down for a little longer but floored it as they left the parking garage, and Albuquerque, behind.

An hour outside of Albuquerque proper, Marshall finally allowed himself to relax. Sally was curled up in the back seat, fast asleep, and there were no more cars tailing them. He shrugged his shoulders and cranked the AC, again cursing the nightmares that visited him every night and left him so exhausted. Glancing in the rearview mirror he couldn't help but envy Sally's peaceful state. She told him that she hadn't gotten a good night's sleep herself since he told her she needed to be relocated two weeks ago. If Marshall was honest with himself, he hadn't gotten a good night's sleep since Mary had slammed that ring down on the diner table and announced her engagement to Raphael. Ever since that morning almost four months ago now, things between them had been strained. He still couldn't believe he had actually told her he loved her – and during her office engagement party no less! For the first time he had said the words: "I love you." He hadn't pussy footed around and said: "tell me what you need" or even better "that's my girl". Those had become his signature phrases over the years to replace the words 'I love you' so he could say them and she wouldn't freak out. But that afternoon when he said the actual words and she said _nothing, _just looked at him – he knew that it was time to let her go. And he was slowly dying inside.

Dating was not something Marshall was particularly good at – and his track record with women lately was scary. Mary had given him no end of grief about Dana and that relationship had lasted only a couple of dates, thank God. She had truly been too crazy for him – and then there had been Shelly. Marshall sighed. She had actually been nice and sweet but – no, something had been off there as well.

The night Mary had been shot - he had told her he had a date. Marshall gripped the steering wheel a little tighter. He hadn't had a date; he had had plans with his college roommate and his wife who were in town for a conference. Marshall chuckled though as he remembered that they had 'happened' to bring their single friend Sarah who had just moved to town. Instead of it being a nice reunion dinner it was an awkward blind first date, full of pauses and nervous giggling, both from Marshall and Sarah. His relief when his phone rang had been evident to everyone – but he knew that he had scared them all when he had run out of the restaurant with barely a word except for the strangled, "Mary."

He remembered the hallway, running after her as she was being wheeled to the ER, and the fact that she wasn't breathing. He remembered telling her it wasn't time for her to leave yet and pressing a kiss against her temple. He remembered being told to wait outside and crumpling to the floor as Stan arrived. Her mother and sister arrived at some point with Raphael – and Francesca as well. He remembered interrogating Mario who admitted nothing. He remembered talking to Raphael and telling him something about 'turning into a savage beast in order to protect our loved ones'. He remembered sitting with Mary for awhile before her surgery – how pale her skin was, how many machines were hooked up to her. He remembered telling her again that he loved her and that she couldn't die. He called her his exotic animal and pressed another kiss to her temple.

Marshall glanced again in the rearview mirror but Sally was still sleeping peacefully. At least he knew he could wake her if necessary. After Mary's surgery, those three days she had been unconscious in ICU, had been the longest days of his life. Stan had insisted that their people still needed to be seen to and Marshall was twice as busy checking up on Mary's witnesses as well as his own. He knew that Jinx and Brandi were spending days with Mary and that relieved him – she was not alone. Once visiting hours ended in the evening however, it was a different story, and Marshall knew that he wouldn't be able to sleep without seeing his partner. He always stopped by his house first for a quick bite to eat and a shower.

_The first night, he showed up with coffee and donuts for Mary's nurses and he had a feeling that the food had as much weight as his badge in getting him into her room. He pulled the hard plastic chair right up to her bedside and for a minute just sat and gazed at her, silently willing her to open those eyes. After a few moments of silence, he spoke._

"_Hey partner, it's me. How's my girl? Sorry I haven't been by all day – you know how it is. Now I have to check on your witnesses as well as mine. Some of them are quite happy with that arrangement – especially Mrs. Neddlemen. What did you do to her dog, anyway?" Marshall chuckled. "I want you to know that we got your shooter. I won't give you any more details until you wake up – that should give you some incentive, cowgirl." Marshall paused and cleared his throat. "I brought some reading material. I'm sure Brandi and your mother has been keeping you well supplied with People magazine and Cosmo so I thought I'd bring some culture. It's called 'The Three Musketeers'. It's a classic by Alexandre Dumas and it's got a little bit of everything – action, romance, mystery. Did you know that Dumas made quite a good living writing novels but he squandered it away on women and fathered four illegitimate children?" Again Marshall paused. Spouting off his trivia without her telling him to 'shut his hole' just wasn't the same. He opened the book and began to read._

_It was late afternoon on the third day after Mary's surgery when Marshall's cell rang as he was leaving Mrs. Neddlemen's house. Seeing that it was Raph, he answered on the first ring with trembling fingers._

"_Marshall here."_

"_She's awake." Raph's voice came across the line sounding strained. "She's asking for you."_

_Marshall leaned against the hood of the GMC and breathed deeply for the first time in days. "Tell her I'll be there in fifteen."_

_Marshall broke a few speed limits and was there in ten. Raphael was leaving as he came crashing through the main ICU doors – Marshall nodded at him but continued on his way to Mary's room. He paused in the doorway however when he saw that her eyes were closed in sleep once again. He sighed in frustration as Mary's head nurse Emily appeared at his elbow and softly touched his arm._

"_She's awake, Marshall. She's just resting her eyes. Don't worry – she's not slipping back into a coma."_

_Marshall looked down on the petite woman and gave her one of his slow, easy grins. Emily gave him a gentle push in the back and walked away. He stepped softly into the room and over to Mary's bedside. Did he dare give her one last kiss – before she was fully awake, healed and could knock his block off? Leaning down, he gently pressed a kiss to her forehead and then jumped back a foot when Mary moaned softly. _

"_Doofus? Is that you?"_

_Marshall giggled. He never thought he would be so glad to hear her say that ridiculous nickname again! "Hey cowgirl, it's me."_

_Mary moaned again and opened her eyes. Green eyes met blue and both partners smiled before Mary's eyes hardened slightly. "Please tell me you got the number of the jackass who shot me."_

_Marshall turned to pull the chair to her bedside when Mary captured his hand. Shaking her head slightly she tugged on their clasped hands and pulled him down to sit on the bed. "We got him, Mer. How much do you remember?"_

_Sighing in relief and pain, Mary told Marshall what she could remember of that night, which was amazingly clear up until she was shot. When she was finished, she narrowed her eyes and looked her partner up and down for the first time. "You look like crap, Doofus."_

"_Well, I haven't been taking a beauty nap for the past three days, ma chere*." _

"_French, Mr. Mann?"_

_He shrugged. "I think it's our nightly reading material – it's rubbing off on me."_

_Mary rolled her eyes. "God, Marshall, you're not reading to me in French, are you?"_

_He giggled. "No, mon petit chou* - but what a wonderful idea! I wonder how hard it would be to get my hands on a French edition of 'The Three Musketeers'."_

"_What did you just call me? You're not allowed to call me something in a language I don't speak!" Mary lifted their clasped hands and attempted to hit him but Marshall laughed and easily dodged her weak attempt. She then looked puzzled for a moment as her eyes lit on the book on her little table. "You've been reading to me in the evenings – wait, all night? When do you sleep, Marshall?"_

_He shrugged again. "I usually fell asleep after I'd read you a few chapters. Then I'd wake up later and read some more."_

"_So you spent the night with me, mon chere*?" Green eyes teased him._

_Marshall's chest tightened and for a moment he couldn't breathe. 'It doesn't mean the same thing to her as it does to you,' he reminded himself. 'Even though you are her best friend and you know her better than anyone else, she doesn't belong to you.' He nearly jumped off the bed when Mary's hand touched his cheek._

"_Hey, where did you go?" she whispered softly._

_Not able to help himself any longer Marshall crushed her to him in a hug. "You're trembling, Marshall."_

"_I was so scared, Mer."_

"_I know, but I'm here." She gently pushed him away from her and with a trembling hand she traced a pattern on his shirt over his bullet wound from Horst. When green met blue again, both partners' eyes were wet. "I tried not to die – for you."_

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French/English

Ma/Mon chere – my dear

Mon petit chou – my little cabbage (it's an endearment – really!)

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***Sigh - Marshall wears me out! I really thought the story would be up to what had happened to Marshall but my muse is having too much fun. Hope you're enjoying - let me know with reviews!!**


	6. Chapter 6

****A/N -- Whee! 2 updates in 3 days! My muses are on a roll! This is for all my devoted reviewers who are hungry for more and want me to write faster - you know who you are! Spoiler Alert for this chapter - A Fine Meth! **

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_"Got no feel, I got no rhythm  
I just keep losing my beat  
I'm ok, I'm alright  
Ain't gonna face no defeat  
I just gotta get out of this prison cell  
Someday I'm gonna be free, Lord!  
Find me somebody to love --  
Can anybody find me somebody to love?"_

_**--Somebody to Love, by Queen**_

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_Monday evening, 8 P.M._

Mary twisted her hair still damp hair into a loose bun and stuck a pencil through it to hold it in place for the moment. She threw a glare at her locked bedroom door and muttered more swear words under her breath. So far Raph hadn't come down the hall to check on her – and if he knew what was good for him, he wouldn't anytime soon. She threw another glare at her engagement ring that was lying serenely on her nightstand where she had 'forgotten' it that morning before work. She sighed and flopped back against the pillows propped on her headboard. She hadn't forgotten her ring – but she still wasn't wearing it much and Raph was beginning to ask questions. She had muttered something a few weeks ago about the ring interfering with work and she laughed as she remembered Marshall chiming in and telling Raph that the ring "interfered with her interrogation techniques". Raph had looked hurt and confused by their shared laughter and had offered to buy a chain so Mary could wear the ring around her neck. Mary gritted her teeth – then what would she say?

If she was being honest with herself, she had expected Raph to bail the minute she woke up from her shooting. He could never understand what her job entails – and she would never be able to share as much information with him as he was constantly demanding. Her safety was an issue that had come up before her shooting; now that her life had actually been in jeopardy, she had expected Raph to issue the dreaded ultimatum. But instead here it was, two months down the road and he was still here, in her house. They were still engaged and he was pushing for her to set a date for the wedding and to make other serious decisions regarding that commitment. She shuddered – _commitment_. Shannon women didn't make commitments – at least not with their hearts to men who could and would leave them broken. _It's not like I haven't been down this road before and it turned out so well with Mark! _Mary's inner demons cried.

Mark – what a colossal mistake that had been! Even her dad who had been God only knew where at the time had been able to see that it would end in disaster and heartache. Mary retrieved her box of letters from under the bed and searched for the one that arrived just after her short lived marriage.

"_My darling girl – I was so sad to learn that you moved out and married that Mark. He's way too old and you're way too young. I know taking care of your mother can be a trial but she means well and wanting to get out of the house is a piss poor reason to get married." _Mary wondered which news had upset her dad more – her moving out and abandoning her mother and sister or her quickie marriage. She had only been seventeen at the time, and Mark was thirty. But he was in a band and he was sexy and exciting and he rescued her from the hell she had been living in for the past ten years. He made her feel like a princess – like she was the only one that mattered. Not her mother, or Brandi, or her on-the-run, non-existent father, just her. Mark made her feel special – for awhile, anyway. _"You deserve so much more than what I left behind. You deserve a lifetime of happiness with someone. Someone who knows you and loves you for the treasure that you are; I know that this sounds like a fairy tale to you now, a pie in the sky idea. But you deserve someone who can give you the sun and the moon, princess – or is at least willing to try."_

Mary sniffed and wiped away a tear. _Princess_ – that was what her daddy had called her more often than anything else. She remembered her reaction when Raph called her his princess about a month ago. She drew her brows together in concentration – had she ever explained things to Raph? She couldn't remember now. All she could remember was talking to the one person who had always been there for her, her only friend.

_Jinx had been prattling on about God only knew what since Marshall had arrived with the croissants twenty minutes ago. Mary really did try to eat one but her earlier conversation with Raph had zapped all her energy and robbed her of her appetite as well. She pulled her croissant apart into small pieces on her plate instead, not meeting anyone's eyes, though she could feel Marshall's on her from time to time. Finally Jinx's voice penetrated her shroud of isolation._

"_Marshall, can't you talk some sense into Mary? I really think that she needs to take a longer leave of absence from work. I mean, she was shot and in critical condition for so long," Jinx was pleading and whining at the same time._

"_I'd love to, Jinx, but Mary doesn't speak sense."_

_Marshall's witty reply sent Jinx and Brandi into ear splitting peals of laughter and Mary jumped to her feet. "For God's sake mother, I think I know when I'm ready to go back to work! I'll thank you all not to treat me like a child. I know my own strength. I need to work because I need to get out of this house!" and she swung away from the table, from their astonished faces and stormed into the house. She went to her room and curled up on her bed facing the door. Five minutes later Marshall came and leaned against the frame. Blue eyes met green in concern; she glared back at him._

_Marshall held up his hands in self defense. "I come in peace, Mer."_

_Mary swung her feet off the bed. "God, Marshall get me out of here! Just for a little while – I can't even drive and if I want to go anywhere I have to take one of those idiots with me and they drive me battier than you do with all your insane mindless trivia about the lifespan of gnats or the wavelength of-"_

_Marshall crossed to her side and placed a finger against her lips. She had the strongest urge to bite it – but the tenderness in his face made her pause and she suddenly felt light-headed. "Hush. You're pacing and snarling and snapping like the exotic animal I called you once, remember?"_

_Mary smirked up at him. "Well, you're my keeper – so let's go."_

_Marshall called Stan and told him that he wouldn't be back in the office until late afternoon. For awhile he simply drove Mary around town and she stared out the window, brooding. It wasn't until he pulled up in front of Maggie's Pie Shop and parked that she blinked and turned her face towards him._

"_How long have you been driving?"_

"_About an hour – how about some pie? Pie makes everything better."_

_Mary was about to tell him that she still wasn't hungry when her stomach growled. "I guess I could force some pie down."_

_Maggie had been Marshall's first witness in Albuquerque. She had been a prostitute in New York City who had witnessed a gang shooting while 'working' and had been relocated. Marshall had encouraged her to go back to school and Maggie had turned her love of baking and her grandmother's secret recipes into a fairly successful small business. She said that the money wasn't as good as her previous line of work but she sure enjoyed it a lot more._

_Maggie greeted the partners warmly, especially Mary who she had not seen since her shooting._

"_Did Marshall give you the pie?"_

"_Yes, thank you Maggie. It was the first chocolate thing I ate after my surgery. Do you have any more today?"_

"_Sorry, I don't. But I have your second favorite."_

_Mary's face brightened. "Key lime? It's not chocolate – but it's damn good! I'll have a slice please."_

_Maggie nodded and turned to Marshall. "And what can I get for my favorite Marshal today?"_

"_What's the special?"_

_Mary rolled her eyes – Marshall hardly ever got the same pie twice in a row. He had too many favorites to pick just ONE._

"_I just pulled a Dutch caramel apple from the oven – still warm."_

_Marshall's blue eyes lit up. "Sold."_

"_A la mode?"_

"_Yes please, Maggie."_

_Mary chuckled as Maggie scurried away to get their slices and Marshall looked at her questioningly. "What's so funny?"_

"_You are – you love your pie! You're practically drooling already. Should I get you bib?"_

"_Stop it!" He pointed his index finger at her. Comfortable silence descended over their table for a few moments before Marshall said, "Did you know that few things say 'America' like apple pie? But the saying 'as American as apple pie' doesn't really hold water since apples aren't really from North America – they were imported from Europe."_

_Mary leaned down to thump her head on the tabletop. "Shut UP, Doofus! I came here to eat pie, not hear about fucking pie trivia!"_

_Maggie brought their slices and for a little bit they ate in silence. Marshall made appreciative noises and Mary again asked if he needed a bib. He wadded up his napkin and threw it at her._

"_So, Raph called me his princess this morning." Mary announced to her piece of pie without looking up to meet Marshall's eyes. She let the words hang in the air for a few moments before setting down her fork._

_Marshall was looking at her thoughtfully. "That isn't the endearment term I would choose for you," he said dryly. "And you said?"_

"_I didn't say anything, I completely freaked out on him. He was going on and on about a fairy tale wedding and Prince charming and other stupid shit and I lost it!"_

_Marshall put down his fork and pushed his empty plate away. "Is that the only reason?"_

"_What do you mean? You know I'm not a happily ever after girl!"_

_Marshall took a deep breath. "I don't think that's true, Mer. I think you're a realist and you don't believe in fairy tales. But I do believe that you want someone to love you and share your life with – and you deserve that."_

_Mary's heart was pounding – why was she feeling light-headed again? She curled her lip. "I don't want all that girly shit, Marshall."_

"_You mean the ruffles, crinoline, seven-tiered cake, a huge wedding and reception, etc? Of course you don't – you would much rather get married in slacks, with your glock as part of your bouquet, sometime during the week at the courthouse," Marshall was rattling off matter-of-factly while Mary stared at him wide-eyed and slack jawed. "You might have a backyard party for friends and family afterwards, and serve ribs, beer and pie, but not cake or champagne." He paused for breath and signaled Maggie to bring coffee._

_Mary threw back her head and laughed. "I can't believe you just rattled off my dream wedding like that."_

_Marshall shrugged. "I know you, Mer."_

_His simple statement caused her to sober and she propped her chin in her hand, looking at him thoughtfully. "Tell me again why we're not married?" she teased._

_If she hadn't been studying him so closely she would have missed the quick pursing of his lips, and the squinting of his eyes that hid a flash of pain – and she felt an answering spasm of pain in her gut. How many times had she hurt him with her teasing? How long had he loved her before he screwed up his courage to tell her at the engagement party?_

_Marshall cleared his throat. "So the only reason you freaked out on Raph is because he was talking about stupid girly stuff? Not because he called you princess? Are you sure it's not because your dad was the only person who called you princess?"_

"_Geez, Marshall. You go right for the jugular, don't you!" she swore softly at him._

"_It's the truth, isn't it?"_

"_Damn it, Marshall leave it alone."_

"_I can't, Mer. I'm not Raph – you can't push me away with sex or shut me out because I don't know you. This is me, your partner – I know you. The good, the bad, and the ugly – you can't hide from me, Mary Shannon."_

"_Bastard, I hate him." But she was already weeping and he was moving into the seat beside her. Marshall swept her into his arms and held on tight. _

As Mary remembered that afternoon with Marshall in the pie shop, so many feelings came bubbling back to the surface. She looked down at the letter in her hand – yes, she hated and loved her father. It was indeed a fine line between those two emotions. Marshall was once again there to catch her as she fell into the maelstrom that was her father. He had never read the letters; but she had shared enough with him over the years of their partnership that he knew of their existence. She had hardly spoken to Raph about her father – Brandi had actually supplied most of what her fiancé knew and Mary never brought daddy up in conversations with the man she was to spend her life with. Mary glanced again at the letter still clutched in her hand.

"_Does Mark know your fears? Your dreams? Can you be yourself with him – or does he only know the brave adult girl that you were forced to become from the time you were seven? Does he tell you you're perfect – or does he know and love your flaws? I know that I have no right to ask these questions but I cannot stop being protective of you, princess. You deserve someone who loves you – sees you for who you are, flaws and all."_

As Mary put the letter back in her box, she wiped away more tears and blew her nose. _Damn it! This is why I hate being off work! Too much time for fucking introspection!_ As she placed the lid on the box and stashed it back under the bed, she reflected on her father's words. There was only one man who fit her daddy's criteria. It sure as hell hadn't been Mark – and it was very possibly not Raph. Mary picked up her cell phone and saw that there were still no messages from her partner. Yes, there was only one man who fit that set of criteria – who had ever fit. _Marshall._

_

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_***Hm, is Mary starting to see the light? And where the hell is Marshall? REVIEW!!***

****BTW, all Marshall's pie trivia can be found online - I LOVE Google!**  
**


	7. Chapter 7

****I'm on a roll now! This chapter is a bit angsty - Marshall is working through stuff on his end too, and yes, you will finally find out what happened to him!****

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"An angel's smile is what you sell  
You promise me heaven then put me through hell  
You're a loaded gun ... yeah  
There's nowhere to run  
No one can save me, the damage is done.  
Shot through the heart, and you're to blame  
You give love a bad name  
I play my part and you play your game"

_**--You Give Love a Bad Name, by Bon Jovi**_

_

* * *

Shilo Inn Hotel Room 415, Salt Lake City, Monday morning 1 A.M._

Marshall's eyes flew open and darted about the darkened room in confusion as he tried to get his bearings and attempted to get his racing pulse under control. The nightmare faded into the recesses of his mind as the AC unit in the corner of the room kicked on and gave a pathetic wheeze of cold air. Marshall sat up and swung his feet off the side of the bed, drawing deep breaths into his lungs. The past twenty-four hours was coming back to him now – he was in a hotel in Salt Lake City and Sally was safely on her way to a new location. After eluding the private detective in Albuquerque with Stan and Eleanor's assistance yesterday, there had been no further incidents. The transfer had gone smoothly and Sally was hopefully now going somewhere her dickweed ex-husband could never find her. Marshall had grabbed a quick bite to eat and arrived at his room to fall into bed around 10 P.M. from sheer exhaustion. Glancing at the clock, he wasn't surprised to see that it was only three hours later – he was amazed his demons had let him sleep that long. Groaning in frustration, he headed for the shower. He might was well get up and get on the road; there would be no more sleep until he was home in his own bed and back by her side.

As the water pelted his aching muscles, Marshall groaned again. Was there a support group for people like him? People who are ass-over-heels-in-love-and-dependent on their partners? Hmm, what would that acronym look like? _P-A-O-H-I-L-D_, he spelled it out in his head and then giggled. _God! I'm tired! _He made a fist and pounded the shower wall. _Something's gotta give here – I feel like I'm crawling out of my own skin. It's nearly as bad as it was before the Horst case. I know I promised her I wouldn't leave but . . . I can't just watch her throw her life away on a sham marriage to Raph. I can't watch my exotic animal be caged and tamed by someone else. Mary shouldn't be caged or change for anyone. _Marshall wearily scrubbed a hand over his face. _But I'm not going to be her keeper for much longer, am I? That will be Raph's job soon. Not that Mer needs a keeper – she needs a partner, an equal. _He snorted as he thought about Raph's ideas about marriage. _Does that Dominican shortstop even know the first thing about my girl?_

Marshall cast his mind back to that morning in the pie shop when he told Mary about her dream wedding. She had seemed genuinely, and pleasantly, surprised that he had known exactly what she wanted. True, the topic of wedding plans had never come up during the course of their partnership. But should it have surprised her so much that he knew her likes and dislikes so well after all this time? The look of wonder and affection on her face when she said, _"Tell me again why we're not married," _had pierced his heart and temporarily robbed him of the ability of speech. He still wondered why she didn't pick up on that – why he didn't come back immediately with some witty retort. He had never felt so inept, so verbally _impotent _before. As Marshall turned the water off and exited the shower he vowed again to himself that something had to give. He just didn't know what – Mary had shot him through the heart years ago and he was powerless in her grasp. He couldn't leave her and he couldn't stay.

* * *

_Denny's Restaurant, Grand Junction, Monday 9 A.M._

Marshall was waiting for his receipt from his grand slam breakfast when he decided to call Stan at the office and check in. He figured he was safe in calling at this hour – Stan should be in the office by now but it was still early enough that Mary shouldn't have arrived for her first day back at work. He wanted to hear her voice more than anything; and yet he checked his hormones, reminding himself that he had talked to her last night and would be seeing her in a few hours.

Stan answered the phone just before the answering service picked up. "You got Stan."

"Hey Stan, its Marshall. I'm not calling too early, am I?"

"No, no. I was just grabbing some coffee and welcoming your partner back to work."

"Mary's in already?"

Stan chuckled. "Are you kidding? She instructed Eleanor to be at her house at 8:30 and bring coffee!"

Marshall laughed at Stan's impression of Mary. "Wow – she must have really been ready to get out of that house. She's never early, or even on time!"

"So have you left Salt Lake yet?"

"Actually I'm just finishing my breakfast in Grand Junction."

"What! You're in Colorado already!"

Before Marshall could reply he heard a click over the line and then Mary's voice said, "Doofus! You're on your way back already? Couldn't stand to be away from me any longer, huh?"

Marshall's eyes closed in pain and pleasure and desire. _You have no freaking idea. _"Actually I am more concerned for Eleanor's safety without me there to retract your claws."

"Thank you Marshall!" Eleanor's voice sang over the wire and Marshall realized that they had him on speakerphone.

"Numb nuts!" Mary cat called as Marshall said, "You're welcome, fair lady."

There was a series of clicks followed by a moment of silence and Marshall thought they all had hung up on him until Mary spoke again.

"So, are you going to tell me the real reason why you got such an early start this morning? You're off speakerphone now," she added softly.

Marshall sighed. "Hotel beds suck, Mer. I just wanted to come home."

Silence from the other end.

"Leave it alone, Mer. So, how does it feel to be back?"

"Funny – your desk looks lonely."

"You just want me there so you can throw spit wads at me instead of doing paperwork!" he laughed. "You better not miss up anything on my desk!"

"Hmm, I was just gonna send you some pictures I found online this morning – do you want me to email them to you or print them out and leave them in your inbox?"

"You bad, bad girl!" he growled into the phone, making her laugh gaily.

"So, when will you be home?" she asked once she had caught her breath.

Marshall's breath caught in his throat. _God, she has no idea what she does to me. _He leaned down and thumped his head on the tabletop. "Home?" he repeated the word softly.

"Yeah idiot, my place, you know? You said you'd come by tonight to celebrate my return."

"Listen Mer, I drove all day yesterday and will drive all day today. I'm gonna be beat – how about tomorrow night?"

"Oh no, cowboy! You've left me alone with the crazy, clingy people for four days without a reprieve – you can come by for one beer!"

Marshall chuckled. "Mer, there's no beer at your place."

"Then bring some with you! When will you be here?"

"I'll text you when I'm close – but I should be rolling into town about 5."

They said good-bye and for a few minutes Marshall sat and stared into space, silently kicking himself. He had absolutely no self-control when it came to Mary Shannon – he couldn't say no to her. He knew it was a bad idea to go see her tonight when he was this tired and had been driving for 25 hours. When he was battling exhaustion and fatigue, his guard was down and he was liable to say or do something that he wouldn't normally and would only end up regretting later. But he continued to play his heart and she played her games – and he had no idea who was going to come out the winner.

* * *

_US 550, 25 miles south of Cuba, Monday 3:45 P.M._

Marshall stared down at the flat rear tire on the passenger side of the GMC and grimaced. Stan was going to kill him – not because of the flat itself, but because of the event leading up to the flat. If he was Mary, he would 'embellish' or outright lie on the paperwork. But Marshall Mann was nothing if not punctual for work and meticulous in filling out all WitSec forms, making sure all the t's were crossed and the i's dotted. As he unbuttoned his sleeve cuffs and began to roll them up to his elbow he reflected on the fact that at least he didn't hit another vehicle when he had nodded off at the wheel and driven off the road. It was also fortunate that he wasn't on an overpass at the time – no, he just went crashing through sagebrush and rolled through the remains of someone's keg party in the wilderness. Broken beer bottles littered the ground at his feet and he was amazed that only one of the tires was flat. Popping the trunk of the GMC, Marshall reached inside. But the sight that met his eyes made him freeze – the jack was missing and the spare tire had been slashed. With a groan, he sat down on the tailgate, realizing that his day had just gone from bad to worse.

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****This isn't a plot story, people - but what happened to the jack and tire? Is Marshall going to leave Mary? REVIEW!!****


	8. Chapter 8

****A/N: We're getting down to the end, folks! Keep those reviews coming! I apologize if Raph is a little OOC in this chapter - but that's why it's called fiction!**

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**

"_I felt a little fear upon my back, I said  
Don't look back, just keep on walking  
When the big black horse said 'look this way', he said  
'Hey li'l' lady, will you marry me?'  
But I said,  
'No, no, no, no-no-no,' I said  
'No, no. You're not the one for me.'"  
-- __**Black Horse and the Cherry Tree, by KT Tunstall

* * *

**_

_Monday evening, 8:15 P.M., Mary's house_

"Damn it, Stan! He was supposed to be here over three hours ago! Are you sure he hasn't called the office or Eleanor? Have you driven by his house? Is the truck there?" Mary was pacing her bedroom floor furiously, her feet keeping pace with the rapid-fire delivery of her words. _If Doofus was here, he would tell me I'm pacing and snarling and snapping again like his damn exotic animal._

"Mary, you've got to calm down. I'm sure Marshall is fine. I'll drive by his house as soon as we hang up if that will make you feel better. But I really think that he just went straight home and collapsed."

"Without calling me first? He wouldn't do that, Stan! Something's off here – I feel it."

She heard Stan's sigh into the phone. "When was the last time you heard from Marshall?"

Mary's eyes drifted to the clock on her nightstand. "Five hours ago. He texted me when he was leaving Cuba –said he had stopped to stretch his legs. He said he'd be here by 5 at the latest." She ran her fingers through the hair that had escaped her messy bun. "I've tried his cell several times but it just goes straight to voice mail."

"You know that there are several dead pockets in that area – radio signals get blocked or something," Stan was trying to placate her.

Mary had a flash of memory – _Marshall clutching her shirt to the bullet wound in his chest, telling her that there was iron in the mountains blocking her cell phone signal. _Mary's blood ran cold and she stopped pacing as she suddenly felt dizzy. _If he's lying somewhere out there in the desert with a bullet wound in him, I'll – _Mary's thought process derailed as the room spun and her legs crumpled from underneath her. Fortunately she landed on the corner of her bed.

"Mary? Mary!" Stan was shouting in her ear.

"I'm here." She passed a hand over her eyes and took a slow, deep breath. "Stan, just go over to his house and see if he's there. Then call me back, all right?"

"I'm leaving now. Try not to worry – you call me if you hear from him first, you hear?"

* * *

_Monday evening 6 P.M., US 550 S, somewhere south of Cuba_

Marshall dropped his overnight bag at his feet and carefully lowered the Styrofoam cooler to the ground. Reaching inside the bag he pulled out a water bottle that he had purchased in Cuba and took a long drink, wishing that it was cold and that he had someplace to sit down. After securing and locking the GMC, he had started walking down the highway. A few cars had passed him by in two hours but apparently he looked like a pedophile or a serial killer because none of them had stopped. The next car he saw, he was seriously considering pulling out his glock and his US Marshal badge and stepping into the road – but if the driver only saw the gun they definitely wouldn't stop. He drained the water bottle and put it back in the bag. Pulling out his cell phone he grimaced as he saw that he still wasn't getting any service out here – Mary was going to kill him. Sure she would probably maul him in relief first like the exotic animal she is, but then she would kill him for worrying her and not showing up on time with beer. He laughed hollowly. _Here I am, walking along a highway, thumbing for a ride, sweaty and covered in dust and she's __**still**__ all I can think about. Not how much trouble I'm going to be in with Stan for falling asleep at the wheel while driving a company car - not how exhausted I am that I could fall asleep right here, standing up. No, I'm not even thinking about how I might have to spend the night out here – I'm still thinking about my beautiful engaged, unavailable partner. _He kicked a clump of dirt in disgust and it bounced off the cooler before rolling away. As his eyes lit on the chest he consoled himself with the thought that he at least had something to eat for dinner. His eyes scanned the horizon in front of him. The sun would be setting soon and with it the temperature would be dropping quickly. He needed to see what he could do about finding some shelter from the elements if he was going to be spending a night out here in the desert.

* * *

_Monday evening 8:30 P.M., Mary's house_

The bedroom doorknob jiggled and Mary glared at it from her position on the bed.

"Mary – open this door. We need to talk." Raph demanded through the crack. The handle ceased its movement only to be replaced by pounding.

Mary rolled her eyes. The last thing she wanted to do was talk to Raph; perhaps if she remained silent he would get the hint she didn't want to talk and go away.

The pounding increased in volume. "Damn it, Mary. Open up before I break this door down!"

She crossed the room in a rush and threw open the door. "Aren't there enough things in my house that are broken, Raph, without you threatening to break more?"

Raph still had his fist raised to pound and he lowered it slowly. "I just said that to get you to open the door, querida."

Mary bared her teeth at him. "Don't call me that. I'm not your _honey, _or your_ darling, _or your_ pet_." She stalked away from him and sat down on the edge of her bed.

Raph remained in the doorway. "What are you, then?"

Mary looked up to meet his eyes in confusion. "Excuse me?"

"What are you, then? You just said you're not my honey, or darling, or pet. You sure don't act like my fiancé – you don't even wear my ring!"

Mary sighed. "Look Raph, I tried to tell you that it's hard for me to wear it at work."

"Why?"

The single word crackled through the room and hung in the air between them. Mary opened and closed her mouth several times, not knowing what to say.

"What? Mary Shannon is speechless? Okay, so why don't you wear my ring at home?"

Mary squirmed and dropped her gaze. "Look, can we not talk about this right now? I've got a lot of things on my mind right now."

"Dios mio*! When are we ever going to talk about it, Mary?" Raph pushed himself off the doorway and began to pace, muttering in Spanish. Mary waited for him to either translate or get out. Suddenly he strode over to her nightstand and picked up her engagement ring. "This should be on your finger, Mary! All the time! You said yes – said you would marry me. But then you tell me that you're not Cinderella, and that you don't believe in fairy tales." He threw the ring and it hit the wall, bouncing off with a small metallic clink. "I don't think you ever meant it – that you ever wanted a life with me. It's always '_my_ job', '_my_ house', '_my_ partner'. We were just cake in the sky!" he finished with a snarl.

"What?" Mary blinked in confusion. "Cake? What – you mean '_**pie**_ in the sky'?"

"Yes, yes, that is what I mean! It was all pie in the sky, all a dream – our engagement, our life together, none of it was real. The only real thing about you, Mary, is your work!"

"Raph, I've told you what I do – you know how important my job is to me."

To her great surprise, Raph stopped his pacing and his tone softened. "Is your job more important than us?"

Mary instantly bristled. "Is that an ultimatum, Raph?"

He shook his head sadly and sat down across from her on the bed. "No. You must think I'm really stupid if you think I would ask you to choose between your job and me."

"I don't think you're stupid, Raph. And you are important to me. But you have to understand that being a US Marshal is who I am – and I cannot quit."

"You do think I'm stupid if you expect me to swallow that line of bull shit!" Raph roared as he shot to his feet. "There was a time when I thought it was all about your job – that it was only _the job_ you would never leave."

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

Raph shook his head angrily. "Don't play dumb with me, Mary. You know what I'm talking about–"

His words were cut off by the text chime of Mary's cell and she dove eagerly for it. He could tell by her body language, the expression on her face that it was from her partner. "I think we both know that there is someone you will never leave. And he is more important to you than anyone else," Raph gestured at the phone in her hand before stumbling out of the room.

With trembling fingers Mary held the phone so she could read the text message from Marshall: '_I'm ok. In Bernalillo at Range. Stan coming to get me.' _

Mary punched her speed dial for Stan and waited anxiously for him to pick up.

"Stan here."

"It's Mary. I just got a text from Marshall saying he's in Bernalillo at the Range Café. He said you're picking him up. What the hell's going on?"

Stan sighed. "I'm not sure – he didn't give me any details over the phone."

"He called you?!" Mary shrieked into the phone. _Why had he called Stan to ask for a ride instead of calling me? All I get is a lousy text after hours of waiting? I'm gonna kick his ass!_

"Mary, are you there? Listen, he sounded absolutely dead on his feet. I'm glad he texted you – I told him how worried you were."

"So you had to tell him to text me?" Mary was pacing and snarling and snapping again. "I'm going with you Stan."

"Mary, I don't think –"

"Listen you can either pick me up or I can drive or I can get Brandi to bring me. I don't care which way it goes down but I'm going."

Stan gave another long suffering sigh. "Be there in five."

* * *

*_**Dios Mio – Oh my God (frustrated)

* * *

****_**And . . . buh-bye Raph! He is officially gone from this fiction!****

*****Uh-oh, why didn't Marshall call Mary? What's going to happen when they are FINALLY reunited? PLEASE review!!***  
**


	9. Chapter 9

_***Final update for this weekend! Enjoy - original characters by ME, a heart-to-heart with Stan, and a reunion!*

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**_

"_I had to escape  
the city was sticky and cruel.  
Maybe I should have called you first  
but I was dying to get to you.  
I was dreaming while I drove  
the long straight road ahead, uh-huh;_

_Could taste your sweet kisses  
your arms open wide  
this fever for you is just burning me up inside.  
I drove all night to get to you  
is that alright?  
When the night is cold and dark  
No one can move me  
the way that you do  
nothing erases the feeling between me and you."_

_**I Drove all Night, by Cyndi Lauper

* * *

**_

_Monday evening, 6:30 P.M. US 550 S, somewhere south of Cuba_

Marshall was so tired he could barely put one foot in front of the other. When the toe of his boot caught in the dirt because he was no longer lifting his feet and almost went sprawling head over heels, he knew that he needed to just give in and rest. He still wasn't getting cell phone service and no cars had passed him in over an hour. He had seen no abandoned buildings that would provide some shelter and warmth from the falling temperature – only clumps of sagebrush. Spying a fairly thick brush about twenty yards from the road Marshall headed for it. He stashed the cooler and his bag but not before reaching inside to retrieve his US marshal jacket and two small foil packets. Looking at the compact squares in his hand he laughed as he could hear Mary's voice: _You're such a fucking boy scout, Doofus! When are we ever going to need space blankets? _As he scanned the darkening horizon Marshall was eternally grateful that he planned for every survival scenario his brain could think of – Mary was quick on the draw, he was the planner. He had gotten her to eat her words about him being a boy scout when his emergency supplies had gotten them out of a jam before; now these blankets would conserve his body heat in the chilly night air. Zipping up his jacket and wrapping both blankets tightly around his long, lean frame Marshall lay down on the hard ground with his overnight bag for a pillow. Mary's face was the last thing he saw as fatigue claimed him.

He didn't know how much time had passed before he heard the voices. They floated on the night air and for awhile, Marshall thought they were part of the very interesting dream he was having about his partner. But as the voices came closer and Marshall fought to focus on them, he realized that they were real.

"Daisy, he's probably just some bum or hobo sleeping off his drink! I really think we should just leave him alone," one voice was saying.

"Come on, Derek. Didn't you see that truck back there with the flat tire? Maybe it's his car and he needs a lift somewhere," the second was pleading with the first.

_Daisy? Derek? _Marshall groaned and slowly reached a hand under his bag, checking to see if his glock was still there. His stiff fingers curled around it and he began to pull it out into the open. His eyes didn't want to open but he flinched when the beam from flashlights danced across his still form.

He heard a gasp and then the first voice said, "Daisy – come away. I think he has a gun. I don't think he wants to be disturbed."

Marshall heard a laugh – halfway between a chuckle and a nervous giggle. "Hey mister!" He felt a tap against the bottom of his boot. "Are you ok? Do you need some help? Me and my husband were driving by and saw you lying over here and I was worried and I made him pull over."

Daisy paused for breath and Marshall tried to get his bearings. He had been so disoriented when he first woke up – he was lying in the desert? At night? Why?

"Mister? Was that your truck we saw on the highway back there with a flat tire?"

With those words, images flooded Marshall's brain. Sally's transfer, leaving Salt Lake in the middle of the night, falling asleep at the wheel, trying to change the tire only to find the jack missing and the spare tire slashed. Keeping his hand firmly on his gun he sat up slowly with his joints creaking and popping in protest.

"Whoa dude, there's no need to pull a gun on us. We really just wanted to see if you were ok and if you needed a lift someplace." Derek grabbed his wife's elbow and pulled her back a pace or two.

Marshall's eyes finally focused on the couple at his feet. They couldn't have been more than twenty – just kids, he mused silently. Both of them were dressed in hiking clothes and boots; Daisy was a petite redhead whose waist length hair was bound in twin braids. Her husband Derek was wearing a peace sign necklace and – _are those dreadlocks? _Marshall blinked. He reached for the badge clipped to his waist and brought it into the circle of their flashlight beam. "Relax kids. I'm Marshall Mann, a US Marshal, and yes, that was my car back there."

This time Daisy laughed outright and she cuffed her husband affectionately on the arm. "You see Derek, he had a perfectly good explanation for having a gun." Her husband shrugged and then grinned. Daisy squatted on the ground next to Marshall's feet. "My name's Daisy and this is my husband Derek. We're from Portland, Oregon. We got married a month ago and our families gave us travel money for our honeymoon. We're driving around the western US visiting the national forests and campgrounds before Derek goes back to Portland State in January and I go back to work." Daisy said all this in one breath and then grinned, flashing her deep dimples.

Marshall blinked and looked from Daisy to her husband. "Wow, does she ever stop for air?" he asked Derek.

Derek smiled but it was Daisy who answered. "Oh, you'll get used to me if you're around me long enough! I'm the talker in my family and even Derek has a hard time keeping up with me. He says that I need to be a preacher or a teacher or something but I really want to do something with the environment because that's so important, you know? I work at the Paradox Café in Portland and I volunteer a lot for Greenpeace. In fact that's where Derek and I met four years ago. It was love at first sight," Daisy paused for breath again and gazed at her husband affectionately who blushed and looked embarrassed.

Marshall was beginning to wonder if he was still dreaming. "Look, I don't know where you folks are headed-"

"Oh, I'm sorry, didn't I mention that? Derek and I are going to the Santa Fe National Forest. We spent the night close to Grand Junction and we got a late start this morning otherwise we might have completely missed you and that would have been a shame because then we wouldn't have been able to help you. But you know how newlyweds are – we just can't get out of bed in the morning!"

"Daisy!" Derek exclaimed, a violent blush tinting his face.

"Oh Derek, stop it! There's nothing to be embarrassed about! I'm sure our US marshal here knows all about the birds and the bees!" She laughed gaily while both men groaned.

Marshall climbed stiffly to his feet and began to fold up the blankets. "Since you're headed for the Santa Fe National Forest, could I trouble you for a ride into Bernalillo?"

Daisy opened her mouth but Derek wound an arm around her waist and pulled her close to his side. She closed her mouth with a snap and looked up at him, smiling.

"We'd be glad to." Derek said, finally getting a word in edgewise.

* * *

_Monday night, 9 P.M., I-25 N, on the road to Bernalillo_

Stan kept glancing furtively at Mary who was staring out the passenger window while the miles ticked by. She hadn't said a word to him after "Let's go" when she had first climbed in. He could feel the tension and hurt that radiated from her and the silence in the cab was deafening. With a grimace and a muttered prayer for courage, Stan decided it was time for some tough love.

"Damn it, Mary!" he said as he thumped the steering wheel for emphasis. "Get your head out of your ass – this isn't about you! Marshall is going through some tough shit right now."

Mary's jade eyes turned from the window and settled on him with a glare. For a moment she said nothing and he merely met her piercing gaze. Then she seemed to deflate like a popped balloon and ran her fingers through her loose hair. "I know he's been having nightmares," she admitted.

Stan nodded tersely. "That doesn't surprise me. He had them after your kidnapping too."

Mary's eyes widened. "I didn't know. Why would he have nightmares about _my _kidnapping?"

He looked at her in disbelief. "Mary, I can't believe you are blind to his feelings for you. You have to know by now that he is in love with you. He said as much at your engagement party."

"No, he said 'I love you'." Mary shook her head. "He's never told me he's in love with me."

"You're splitting hairs, Mary. You and the job are all Marshall has. He was completely devastated when you were shot. When I got to the hospital? He was –"Stan broke off, wondering how much he should say, wondering how much Marshall had already told her.

"He was what, Stan?"

"He was sobbing, Mary. He was sliding down the wall, sobbing," He admitted softly.

Mary closed her eyes in pain, remembering another time in another hospital corridor when she had broken down over her partner. But her mother had been there to catch her. Who had been there to catch Marshall? She cleared her throat noisily and blinked back the tears that had suddenly formed. "When I woke up, he admitted to being scared. But we talked, a little, and then things seemed to be OK."

Stan snorted – actually snorted at her! "Do you even know Marshall? How long has he internalized his feelings for you? He's gotten very good at hiding things Mary, from both of us. He took on both of your caseloads but spend the evenings with you in the hospital, and after you went home he would drop everything the second you called." He took a deep breath before continuing. "Have you noticed the circles under his eyes? The slight trembling of his hands? That he has started to drink coffee all day long? Good God – have you even noticed he's started to misspell words on his communication forms? The man is exhausted!"

Mary felt awful – she hadn't noticed. She had been so caught up in her shit drama of family life, including her engagement that she had continued to take her partner's rock steady presence for granted. "Why are you telling me this?"

"I'm trying to give you a wakeup call. You were shot and nearly died, Marshall's in love with you, and you are engaged to someone else. All of these things are eating away at him and you guys need to talk about all of it – but not tonight."

"Why not?"

"Are you listening to me? He's exhausted! He's been on the road for two days straight and something happened that caused the car to breakdown and leave him stranded in the desert. I don't know the details yet – but I'm sure he'll tell both of us once he's gotten some rest. For now, for tonight, can't you just be grateful that your partner is alive and well and not lying in the desert with a bullet wound in him?"

* * *

_Monday night, 9:30 P.M. Range Café, Bernalillo, NM_

Marshall dug into his plate of baby back ribs and sighed with pleasure. He had somehow managed not to dig into Mary's surprise out there in the desert and as a result he was more hungry than he could remember being in recent history. He glanced at the cooler next to him on the booth seat and smiled. He still couldn't believe that he had managed to lug that with him miles down the highway. His partner damn well better appreciate it or he was going to sit in front of her and eat the whole pie himself. Wiping sauce from his fingers, he sighed. _Mary. _She hadn't responded to his text. That had surprised him – he had expected his phone to ring seconds after he sent her the message with her on the other end, ripping into him. But his phone remained silent. He knew he should have called her instead of texting. But at this point Marshall knew he was going to fall asleep in the car on the way home. He wasn't fit company for anyone and he really didn't want to see Mary tonight -- not in his weakened vulnerable state. Glancing at his watch he realized Stan would be here soon. Marshall decided to use the restroom before facing his boss.

Marshall was heading back to his table when he felt a swift shove in his backside that almost sent him sprawling into an unlucky patron's lap. Managing to stay on his feet, he apologized to the startled customer and spun on his heel with his hands raised to fend off an attack. Instead a fast moving object landed against his chest and held on tight. He tensed involuntarily as the air was squeezed from his lungs and then he relaxed, allowing his long arms to close around his partner. He breathed in the scent that was Mary for a moment before she roughly shoved him away.

"Damn it Doofus! I can't let you go anywhere by yourself!"

* * *

****I LOVE Stan - he's the MAN! And Mary did kick Marshall's ass! LOL! Review - pretty please?****


	10. Chapter 10

****Hi everyone! Sorry it's been awhile - migraines and Real Life kept me from writing for a bit. But I'm back and I hope you all are still out there and interested!! For making you all wait so long, here's an extra long chapter. What happens when a fatigued Marshall is pushed to his breaking point? Get comfortable and make some popcorn**

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**

"_You're beggin' me to go, you're makin' me stay  
why do you hurt me so bad?  
It would help me to know  
do I stand in your way, or am I the best thing you've had?  
Believe me, believe me, I can't tell you why.  
But I'm trapped by your love,_

_And I'm chained to your side."_

_**--Love is a Battlefield, by Pat Benatar

* * *

**_

_Monday evening 9:30 P.M., Range Café, Bernalillo_

"Damn it Doofus! I can't let you go anywhere by yourself!" Mary's hands were planted squarely on her hips and her eyes were flashing – but the sting was taken out of her words by the huge smirk on her face.

Marshall's eyes swept over his partner's face. There was evidence of tear tracks on her cheeks and her eyes were red rimmed. She had obviously been concerned about him, but as her words registered in his sleep deprived brain his annoyance with her grew. "What are you doing here, Mer? I'm a big boy – I know how to find my way home." He turned away from her but she grabbed his sleeve.

"Marshall – what's the matter with you? I've been waiting to hear from you for hours and then you send me a lousy text saying, 'I'm ok' and expect me to leave it at that?" she hissed at him.

He attempted to shake out of her grasp but Mary was holding on tight. "I'm tired, ok? I just wanted to go home and sleep. I didn't want to deal with your drama tonight."

Mary reeled back as if he had shot her. "_Drama_? Look, I know my family drives me and by extension you crazy most of the time but I needed to know that you were really OK."

Marshall suddenly invaded her personal space by putting his face quite close to hers. She could feel his breath on her face and she instantly felt weak in the knees. "Marshall, what the hell-"she tried to back up but he grabbed her upper arms, holding her in place. Startled green eyes met blue. His eyes were practically bloodshot and Mary felt a spasm of pain. _How long has it been since he's had a decent night's sleep? How long would it have taken me to notice if Stan hadn't said something?_

"You need?" Marshall chuckled dryly. He leaned forward to whisper in her ear, "What about what I need?"

"Am I interrupting, Inspectors?"

Marshall's hands fell away from Mary's arms so fast she almost fell forward into his chest. Regaining her balance quickly, Mary attempted to hear Stan and Marshall's conversation over the blood pounding in her ears. When he had whispered in her ear, she had felt her whole body shiver in response. What was happening?

She joined Stan on his side of the booth. Marshall had calmly resumed eating his ribs and asked them if they wanted to get something to eat as well. Stan had to ask Mary three times if she had eaten before she focused on his words.

"No, I was waiting for Marshall. I guess I could force something down now."

Stan and Mary placed their orders and an uncomfortable silence fell over the table until the food was brought. Once everyone had food in front of them, Marshall took it as his cue to begin his informal debriefing but wasn't sure where to start. Sensing his hesitation, Mary volunteered the information that she had already told Stan that they texted as he was leaving Cuba mid-afternoon. Marshall nodded and swallowed nervously.

"I guess I'll start there then. Shortly after leaving Cuba, I drove off the road and got a flat tire –"but he was forced to a stop as both Mary and Stan interrupted him.

"What do you mean you drove off the road? How did that happen, inspector?" Stan demanded.

Mary's interruption had been pretty much the same – just with more colorful language.

Marshall sighed and looked back and forth between them. He didn't really think he'd be able to gloss this one over, did he? "I fell asleep at the wheel, Stan."

Stan was speechless, just merely ran his hands through his nearly bald head.

Mary looked at him; mouth slightly agape for nearly a full minute before muttering. "Geez, Marshall. Look what happens when I'm not there to slap you upside the back of the head."

"Hey, at least I didn't get shot this time."

Mary flinched. "That's not funny."

Stan finally broke in. "All right – we'll deal with this part later. What happened next?"

Marshall told them about trying to change the tire but finding instead a missing jack and a slashed spare. "I don't know when that could have happened except at the hotel? But I think I would have heard the car alarm – I know someone would have. I know everything was there and the spare tire was fine before I picked up Sally – I checked everything off on my pre-trip list."

Mary smiled for the first time in an hour. "You and your infamous checklists – they finally come in handy for something!"

"What about when we were all at the diner? Could that private eye have done something then?" Stan asked.

Marshall thought for a minute but shook his head. "I don't see how he could have without someone seeing him or us hearing the truck alarm. But he is the most likely suspect – I don't see why someone would have tampered with the truck after I left Albuquerque." His last words were nearly swallowed in a yawn.

"We'll have the trunk dusted for prints when I send the boys out to pick up the GMC first thing in the morning. Right now, Marshall, I think it's time to get you home. It's going on eleven now. I don't want to see your face until Wednesday – we'll sort out the paperwork then. Is that clear?"

Marshall nodded wearily as Stan left money for the bill, picked up his bag and the cooler. Mary reached for Marshall's hand and tugged him gently to his feet. She led him out to the truck, climbed into the back seat and pulled him in after her. As Stan turned the engine over and backed out of the parking lot, Marshall turned bleary eyes to Mary.

"I'm going to be asleep in about five seconds."

"I know, cowboy. Come here." She tugged on his shoulder and was surprised when he put up a show of resistance. "Stop it. I make a nice pillow!" This time he let her pull him down so that his head was resting in her lap. Mary counted silently to twenty before Marshall's breathing deepened and evened out. _Well, it was more than five_, she smirked.

* * *

_Monday night, 11:20 P.M., Marshall's house_

Stan pulled into Marshall's driveway and turned off the truck. He looked at Mary in the rearview mirror and caught her eye.

"I hate to wake him – he's absolutely dead to the world," Mary whispered.

"Are you sure you don't want me to take you home first?"

"No Stan, I told you I'm staying the night."

"Like hell you are." Marshall spoke with a groan as he sat up slowly. "Take her home, Stan." He opened the passenger door and got out, slamming the door behind him.

"What the hell is wrong with him?" Mary fumed. "He's acting like – like-"

"You?" Stan chuckled.

Mary glared.

"Remember what I said? He's exhausted – beyond it. He's probably suffering from fatigue if he was careless enough to fall asleep at the wheel of a company car." The trunk slammed shut and Marshall walked slowly towards his front door.

Mary opened her door and called after him. "Hey Doofus! Don't even try to lock me out! I have a key, remember? I'm staying with you tonight!"

Marshall's shoulders slumped as he turned around. "Mer, I don't need a mother to pick out my jammies, tuck me in and give me kiss good night – I already have one of those, thank you. Go home." He went inside and slammed the door.

With a growl, Mary slammed her own car door and marched around the truck. Stan grabbed her arm at the last minute. "Mary, listen to me for a minute. Do NOT push him tonight! Just be his friend, listen if he wants to talk but I really think he just needs to sleep."

Mary nodded. "Good night, Stan. I probably won't be in tomorrow either." Stan threw up his hands as Mary turned and marched into the house.

Marshall had poured himself a small amount of scotch and was sipping it slowly in the darkness of his kitchen. Mary closed the front door softly and called out as she approached him, "Having a night cap? Pour me one too."

He spun around, clutching the glass to his chest tightly. "Do you need me to call Brandi to come pick you up?"

Ignoring his comment for the moment, she opened his cupboard to look for another glass. "I'm staying." Finding one, she reached for the bottle only to have Marshall yank it out of her grasp.

"Isn't alcohol on your current list of restrictions?"

"No, it's not. I'm not taking the pain meds daily so the damn doctor lifted that one. He still won't sign off on letting me lift over twenty pounds, drive, or have sex though," she ticked the restrictions on her fingers, counting off the last one with an annoyed grimace. She reached for the scotch but Marshall held the bottle over his head where she couldn't reach it. "Stop being such a child! Give me the damn scotch, Marshall!"

Marshall looked thoughtful for a moment. "Will you go home and leave me in peace?"

Mary slammed her hand on the counter top. "No! I don't think you should be alone tonight." She pressed herself against him and stretched up on her tiptoes, her fingertips just brushing the bottom of the bottle. She groaned in frustration and her eyes met his amused ones. She pushed away from him as he laughed. "What is the matter with you? Why do you keep telling me to go home? Don't you want me here?"

Marshall's eyes hardened as he set the bottle down on the counter and Mary pounced on it with glee even as his words filled her with confusion. "What I want is for you to take your pie and go home!" He picked up the Styrofoam cooler and shoved it into her hands. "I want you to get out of my dreams and let me have a good night's sleep for once! Go home, Mary!" He drained his glass and set it in the sink. "I'm going to take a shower. Please call your sister for a ride - I can't drive you home tonight." He stumbled towards his room leaving Mary standing in the kitchen clutching the bottle of scotch and the cooler, wondering what the hell was happening to her partner.

Marshall emerged from the shower fifteen minutes later having washed the desert dirt from his lean frame. He was ready to collapse into his king size bed and not wake up for a week – if not for the damn nightmares and the ache around his heart from pushing Mary away. He didn't know what else to do. She would soon belong to another and he needed to try to put some emotional distance between them. He needed to see if his heart could take it, if their partnership could survive. If not, he really would have to take drastic measures.

He nearly groaned with frustration when he saw his pajamas on the bed – minus the shirt. Making sure his towel was securely wrapped around his waist, he grabbed the pants in one hand and stalked out to the living room to find her. She was sitting in front of the TV watching Law and Order reruns, eating a huge wedge of banana cream pie, wearing the matching top to his pajamas and nothing else but socks on her feet. The sight made Marshall freeze in his tracks momentarily as desire swept over him. At least the T-shirt fell almost to her knees – but it still showed a generous amount of leg. Sensing his presence in the room, Mary turned towards him and gave him a shit-eating grin.

Mary's eyes swept over Marshall's appearance, drinking in his damp, tousled, towel clad body. _Jesus, Mary, and Joseph! Has Marshall always looked this good and I've just never noticed? _"Feel better now that you don't have half the desert on you?" she teased.

Marshall held up his pants and waved them at her. "What were these doing on my bed?" he demanded.

"Look, I know you don't need a mother to pick out your jammies – and I hope to God I don't look like your mother!"

Marshall had to bite his lip to stifle his groan.

"But I needed something to sleep in and of all your wacky pajamas, these are my favorite! I left the pants out for you but if you want to pick out your own or if you need to wear a shirt and pants, Prudence-"

"What are you still doing here? I've told you and told you to go home!"

He went into the kitchen for more scotch and she followed him. Noticed how his hands shook slightly as he poured. She said softly, "Look, I know you're tired, that you've been having nightmares. I'm just trying to be your friend; I'm trying to do something nice."

"You don't do nice."

"Why are you being such a jackass tonight?" Mary's eyes were looking at him in confusion, in hurt and it was killing him. "What's your problem?"

"Please go home, Mer. I don't want you here tonight." He turned his back on her and placed his palms on the counter top.

"Why?"

The single word hung in the air between them and Marshall was afraid to meet her eyes. Afraid of her seeing the emotions he was still trying to hide in his and afraid of the pity that he might see in hers. But she wasn't going to drop the subject so he decided to admit some of the truth.

"Because I'm beyond exhausted and my defenses are down. I'm afraid that I'll say or do something that can't be undone."

The words were spoken so softly that Mary had to lean forward to catch them. She placed her hand gently on his shoulder blade and tried to turn him toward her. "Marshall, don't be afraid. Tell me."

With a sound halfway between a groan and a sob, Marshall turned and crushed Mary to his chest. His lips met hers in a kiss that was passionate, hungry, and bruising. The dizzy, buzzing sensation was back in Mary's head and her knees would have buckled if it weren't for the fact that Marshall's hands were now pressing into her hips. Just as the need for air became an issue, Mary felt the counter dig sharply into her back as Marshall pushed away from her.

"Marshall, what-"Mary stuttered, trying to form a coherent sentence and catch her breath at the same time.

Marshall was standing a few paces from her, chest heaving, with a tortured look on his face. "Please just leave." He backed up and picked up his pajama pants from the back of the couch.

"Marshall, wait –"Mary started to follow him as he headed for his room.

He turned and pointed a finger at her face. "Don't. Just - leave me alone," he whispered brokenly.

Mary stopped in her tracks, staring after him in confusion as he slammed his bedroom door.

* * *

_Tuesday morning, 3:30 A.M., Marshall's house_

"_Okay, here's to the best friend I've ever had, I'll ever hope to have. The girl for whom no man will ever be good enough. I hope you know that – I love you and I wish for you nothing but a lifetime of happiness."_

_Marshall's eyes finally met hers over the rim of champagne flutes and Mary felt her heart in her throat. She was supposed to say something, right? 'Thank you', at the very least for such a beautiful toast. 'I love you too'? Would that be appropriate when she didn't even say those words to Squish and her mother? Of course she loved Marshall – he was her only friend, her best friend. But did she love him like he loved her? Oh yes, she knew he was in love with her. Why Doofus? Why tell me now? _

_Stan and Eleanor were looking at her too, waiting to see what she would say. She raised her glass higher. "To happiness then." And she moved her flute forward to clink with Marshall's. _

_As the rims touched, Marshall's flute fell to the floor and shattered as he clutched his chest – no, his shoulder. The scene shifted and they were no longer in the office. Stan, Eleanor, and the festive party decorations were gone. It was just the two of them in the desert – with a bullet ridden GMC in the background. Marshall collapsed to the ground at her feet and she fell to her knees at his side._

"_Marshall, can you hear me? Where are you hit?" she frantically began pulling at his shirt, sending buttons flying. She managed to get it open but there was no blood, no bullet wound. _

"_I didn't get shot with a gun, Mer." Marshall spoke softly, weakly._

"_What are you talking about, Doofus? This is just like that time with Horst."_

"_Yes, it is," he agreed. "But my wounds aren't physical this time."_

_Panic welled up inside of Mary and she lashed out in him in fear. "What the hell are you talking about? You're delusional and not making any sense, numb nuts!"_

"_You're not listening to me, Mer – you never listen to me. I've told you so many times that I love you but you didn't hear me until I actually said the words at your party. I'm in love with you – and you're engaged to someone else. I can't stay."_

_Tears were running unchecked down Mary's face. "You promised you wouldn't quit! You said you'd stay with me!" she was practically yelling at him and he was looking up at her with a mixture of love, pity, and pain._

"_Good-bye, Mer." Marshall closed his eyes and sighed, fading away to nothingness in her arms._

Mary awoke with a sob, tangled up in the over sized throw blanket on Marshall's couch. Of course it took her a few minutes to realize that this wasn't her couch or her house. But when she looked down and made out the 'Back to the Future' symbols on the blanket, she had a fairly good idea where she was. She lay on the couch, trying to calm her breathing and reminding herself that it was just a dream. But there had been so many elements of reality tangled up in there. The toast Marshall gave at her office engagement party; she didn't even know that she remembered it so clearly. Marshall's shooting had haunted her dreams off and on since it had happened – but in her nightmares he had always been suffering from a physical wound. Mary swung her feet off the couch and readjusted the blanket around her. This twist of an 'emotional' wound was new, probably something her subconscious had pulled up from the events of the past twelve hours.

Mary reached for the glass of water she had left on the table and took a long swig. _Damn, that boy can kiss! Where the hell had all that passion and anger come from? Was it just the fatigue? Does that mean he'll never kiss me like that again? Whoa – I want him to kiss me again? _The glass nearly slipped from her hand with that thought and Mary carefully set it back on the table. She ran a hand through her hair nervously as her skin warmed with the memory of Marshall's kiss. It had been so different from the time she had 'smeared lipstick' on him. She had been in control of that situation and it hadn't even been a real kiss. Although at the end, she thought for a moment her partner had tried to turn it into one – but he had shrugged it off. This time, she was the one who had been caught by surprise and swept away by the power of his emotions – and something had been stirred to life deep inside of her as well.

Mary's train of thought was derailed by a soft sound from Marshall's bedroom. She cocked her head, listening intently. For about a minute there was silence, but then her partner's voice broke the stillness of the night.

"No, no! Mer – stay with me! It's not time for you to go yet! I need you!"

Mary was on her feet at the sound of her name from his lips and she opened his door without a second thought. She noticed right away that he had left the light on in his bathroom and the door was partially ajar. In the dim light illuminating the room she saw Marshall tossing and turning in his huge bed, the covers tangled around his knees. His hair was sticking up in all kinds of crazy angles on the pillow and his bare chest was glistening with sweat. He was moaning into the pillow and she shivered as she realized that tears were slipping down his cheeks from beneath his closed eyelids.

"Come on, Mer. Breath! Stay with me!"

His anguished cries were breaking her heart. Moving swiftly to his side of the bed, she picked up his glock from the nightstand and placed it on the floor out of arms' reach, just in case. She sat down by his knees, in the event he came awake swinging, and began speaking softly and tapping his legs.

"Marshall, wake up. It's just a dream. I'm here, I'm fine. I'm breathing."

At first her words only served to agitate him further and she made sure to stay out of range of his arms as he moved around in sleep. She continued to speak soothingly and little by little he began to calm down. Mary didn't think he was actually going to wake up, that she had just succeeded in driving away the night terrors and he was going to fall back asleep, when he opened his eyes. He looked at her blankly for a moment and she slowly scooted closer to his face.

"Marshall? It's Mary."

For the second time that night she found herself crushed to his chest, being held so tight she could scarcely breathe. Marshall was trembling and running his fingers through her hair. Finally she felt him rest his chin on top of her head and sigh softly.

"I love you. I've tried not to – but I love you."

"I know." She gently pulled back from his embrace and said, "Tell me about the nightmare."

He leaned back against the wall and Mary drew her legs up under her. Marshall fixed his gaze on a point over her head. "The night you got shot, I'm running after you as you are being wheeled into the ER. There's so much blood and you're not breathing and your skin is cold-"he broke off as his emotions threatened to overwhelm him yet again. "Obviously the doctors got you breathing again," he said dryly, trying to change the subject but Mary was not willing to be distracted.

"And in the nightmare, they don't. I die," she stated simply, matter of fact.

"Geez Mary, could you make it sound any more clinical and detached?" he said sarcastically.

Mary dismissed his comment with a wave of her hand. "How long have you had the nightmares? Every night since my shooting?"

He winced at her bluntness. "When you were discharged, I was so exhausted that I slept for a few nights and didn't have them. But otherwise, yes, every night."

Mary shook her head at him in exasperation. "Just how long did you think you could keep this from me, Doofus? From Stan? Without you falling completely apart? You are one lucky son of gun that you only fell asleep at the wheel and got a flat tire. What if you had caused an accident? Or been transporting a witness? Or I had been in the car with you? You would have never forgiven yourself!" she ranted at him.

Marshall ran his fingers through his hair, which only made parts of it stick straight out. "God, Mer! Don't you think I know all that! Don't you think I've thought of all those things! What the hell do you think I was thinking about when I was wandering down the highway for three hours?" Marshall got up and began to pace. "I knew how worried you and Stan were going to be when I didn't get back on time. But when you found out the real reason for my delay – I knew you both would be furious with me, and for damn good reason! I screwed up Mer! I thank God that Sally wasn't in the car with me – and that you were safe and sound at home. You blame yourself and feel guilty about me getting shot during the Horst case but I could never live with myself if anything-"he broke off with the look of guilt that crossed her face.

"I'm sorry, Doofus. I wanted to stay tonight so that I could be here for you, and here I am attacking and kicking you when you're down." Mary shrugged sheepishly. "So, is there a remedy for your nightmares? Something you can take that will help you get some sleep?"

Marshall swallowed nervously and shrugged in return. "The only thing I've found that works is – you."

Mary wrinkled her eyebrows in confusion. "But, you have me. I'm here – I've been here all night, right outside your door on the couch."

"No, Mer. I mean, I need you close - where I can hear you breathing."

Understanding swept over Mary and she smiled up at him. How many times had she woken in the hospital to see him stretched out in that uncomfortable chair by her bed? How many times had she slept by his bed after he was shot just to hear him breathing?

"Get in bed, cowboy."

Marshall climbed back in, lying on his left side. Mary fussed a bit with the blankets, untangling them from the mess they had become during his nightmare and pulled them up to his waist. She went around the bed and picked up his glock, setting it back on the night stand.

She looked down at him for a moment. "Do you want me leave the bathroom light on?"

"Not if you're here with me – I think your growl will keep the monsters away," he giggled and Mary saw a hint of the vulnerable boy re-emerge momentarily.

"Damn straight," she growled at him and snapped off the light. Climbing into bed beside him she turned onto her side so that her back was resting against his chest. Her stocking feet sought the warmth of his lower legs and she felt his chuckle against her hair. "What?"

"Nothing – I just don't know how your feet could possibly be freezing cold inside your socks!"

"Well maybe it's because I was sleeping on the couch with one blanket and you were in here with five!"

"Three, Mer. There are only three on this bed."

She rolled her eyes in exasperation when she felt Marshall's knees behind hers, forcing them to bend slightly. Because of their height difference, her feet were now resting on his bony shins but in a few minutes she was toasty warm from their close position. She sighed in contentment as Marshall's arm came around her waist and his fingers began to trace a pattern lightly on the T-shirt over her surgical scar.

"Better?" he asked softly.

"Yes, can't you tell my feet are no longer chunks of ice? I can actually feel my toes!" she laughed and wiggled them in delight.

"You know, we haven't slept together since Horst."

"That's not true! We've slept in the same bed lots of times on witness transfers since then," Mary pointed out.

"Yeah, but we haven't slept like _**this**_ since I got shot."

Mary was silent for a moment as she thought. _He's right. We've shared lots of beds but we haven't sought comfort from each other since then. I think our position is called 'spooning'? I can't believe that I'm spooning with Marshall and it feels so – right. Raph was lucky if he got a quick snuggle in after sex. I don't let anyone hold me. And yet here I am, lying in Marshall's arms and I don't feel trapped and I have no desire to move away._

"Thanks for not listening to me earlier and leaving when I told you to," he spoke softly, as if he was afraid she might have already fallen asleep.

_You never listen to me._ His words from her dream echoed in Mary's brain and she fought to keep herself from wincing. _Does he think I don't listen to him? That his opinions and feelings don't matter to me? When was the last time I told him I appreciated him, anyway? _Aloud she said, "You're welcome, Doofus. But remember that for next time – because I plan to start listening to you more often in the future."

"Mer?" There was an unspoken question in his voice, as if he was waiting for her to elaborate.

"Not now, cowboy. Sleep." She placed her hand over his and closed her eyes.

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****Lots of Angst and fluff at the end! Please review!!****


	11. Chapter 11

***A/N: Here comes the climax - if you haven't done so yet, get a big piece of your favorite pie and enjoy*

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"_You seem to know the way_

_To turn my frown upside down_

_You always know what to say_

_To make me feel like everything's ok._

_When life had locked me out, I turn to you_

_So open the door._

_Cuz you're all I need right now, it's true_

_Nothin' works like you."_

_**-- Knock, Knock by Lenka

* * *

**_

_Tuesday afternoon, 3:30 P.M., Marshall's house_

Mary was beginning to wonder if Marshall was going to sleep the clock around. Not that he didn't deserve or need it – but she was bored and hungry. He had threatened her within an inch of her life the first time she had stayed over at his place not to touch his gas range/oven. She had fired back that she had done the cooking for herself and Brandi growing up when her mom was on drinking binges.

"_Define cooking." Her partner quirked a Spock-like eyebrow at her._

"_Well, um, half ass sandwiches," she began._

_He held up his hand. "What kind of sandwiches? Never mind, I don't really want to know. Sandwiches don't count as cooking unless you mean grilled cheese or hamburgers or something more gourmet."_

_She sneered at his superior expression. "I can make breakfast."_

"_What – cold cereal?"_

_She slugged him in the shoulder as he giggled. "No jackass, a hot breakfast. Call Brandi and ask her. I can make scrambled eggs and bacon and toast."_

_Marshall tried to look impressed. "Without burning them – or setting off the smoke alarm?"_

"_Hey! The charred bits add flavor!"_

_Marshall nearly choked on his sip of coffee. "Mer, while you are staying in my house, you are never to touch my gas range or oven. Is that clear?"_

_She bared her teeth at him. "Yes, Rachel Ray!"_

Mary smiled at the memory and sipped her coffee. Fortunately Marshall had an 'idiot' proof coffee maker and as a result it was one of the few appliances she was allowed to touch in his pristine, gourmet stocked kitchen. She glanced at the clock above the sink as her stomach growled. She had been awake for almost two hours now and there still were no sounds of life from the bedroom. Since it was way past breakfast time Mary grabbed the phone to order a pizza.

As she waited for the delivery boy to arrive, she spied one of Marshall's many Sudoku books on the counter. She filled in five puzzles with random numbers and letters in INK and laughed knowing that he would blow a gasket when he found it later. She then decided to go raid Marshall's wallet for some cash to pay for the pizza since it was his fault she had to order food in the first place.

She had just taken his wallet off the dresser when Marshall's voice made her drop it on the floor in surprise.

"You know, not all of us lie on our driver's license, Mer. I actually tell the truth when asked about my age and weight."

"Well, good afternoon Sleeping Beauty!" She picked up his wallet and crossed the room, sitting down on the bed beside him. "Are you feeling better? Did you sleep well?"

"That was the best night sleep I've gotten in – I don't remember how long, Mer. Thank you." He reached for her hand and gave it a squeeze.

To her astonishment she felt herself grow warm under his admiring gaze. "You're welcome. Listen, the pizzas will be here soon. I need some cash." She threw the wallet toward him and he caught it easily.

He unfolded it and looked inside. "Pizzas – more than one?" He handed her some cash and tossed the billfold onto the nightstand.

"Yes, lucky for me they were having a special since you can eat a whole one by yourself."

"I'm starving – what time is it?"

"It's almost four in the afternoon."

Marshall blinked in surprise. "I slept all morning and most of the afternoon – and you didn't wake me?"

"Well I thought I might have to since you don't let me touch anything in your kitchen and I've been awake since one o'clock! But I finally gave up on you waking up and fixing me one of your gourmet feasts and ordered pizza." She broke off at the sound of the doorbell. She scrambled off the bed as Marshall grabbed her hand.

"Aren't you forgetting something – like pants?"

Mary looked down and realized for the first time that she was still wearing his Yosemite Sam T-shirt – and nothing else. She laughed. "What – really? Just to answer the door?"

"I'm fine with it – but I don't want you giving the pizza delivery boy an eyeful," he finished threateningly.

"Ok, give me your pants."

Marshall's heart nearly stopped. "Excuse me?"

"Well, you said I can't go out there without pants and you're wearing the ones that match this shirt. I'm a girl – clothes have to match, even pajamas," Mary explained calmly, desperately trying to keep a straight face. "So outta your pants, Mann!"

The doorbell rang again followed by heavy banging on the front door. "Pizza delivery!"

Throwing back the covers Marshall got to his feet and plucked the money out of Mary's fingers. He leaned close to her ear and ruffled her hair. "You're no girl – you're a devil!" and he left to get the door as Mary collapsed on the bed in a fit of giggles. She didn't quite know what had come over her, or what was happening between them, but she sure was enjoying it.

The aroma of pizza reached her nostrils and she turned over on the bed to see Marshall leaning against the door frame, holding both pizza boxes in his hands, his face unreadable. "You know, after that little stunt you pulled I have a good mind to try and eat both of these."

With a howl of rage Mary threw herself at him and Marshall's face broke into a grin as he held both boxes over his head. She jumped up and down on her toes, pounded on his chest, but through it all, he remained still as a statue.

"That's the best you've got?" he taunted.

A predatory gleam came into Mary's eyes and for a moment he felt a stab of fear from issuing the challenge. Mary stepped back briefly and looked him up and down, slowly. With a wicked grin she threw her arms around his neck and pulled his head down to fuse their lips together. She felt the initial shock and resistance run through his body before he relaxed, letting the boxes fall to the floor as he wrapped his arms around her waist. Mary felt a momentary flash of victory but it was quickly dampened by the power of emotions she was feeling- emotions that she previously ran away from because they scared her.

Marshall pulled away first, leaning his forehead against hers and meeting her eyes. "Ok, I guess you can have a couple of slices. Then I think we need to talk."

* * *

An hour later, Mary was shaking her head in dismay at the empty pizza boxes. "I can't believe you ate your pizza and half of mine!"

He shrugged. "You got your couple slices."

She picked up her wadded paper napkin and threw at him. He easily dodged the paper missile and it skidded across the floor.

"You're going to pick that up later," he shook his finger at her, like he was correcting an errant child.

They were sitting in Marshall's living room, on the couch with their feet propped up on the coffee table. Mary had finally put some pajama pants on, not because she was going outside, but because her legs had gotten cold. Marshall was secretly relieved. They needed to have a serious discussion and he didn't know if he could do that and keep his hormones in check with so much of her leg showing.

The partners had been sitting in comfortable silence for about ten minutes before Mary finally broke it. "So, you're not the only one who's been having nightmares. I had my own last night, just before you did."

"Tell me."

Hesitantly, with many pauses and breaks, she told him about the 'office engagement party, Horst shooting that wasn't a shooting' nightmare. When she finished, she had tears in her eyes and he was refusing to look at her.

"Marshall? Is what you said in my dream true?"

"It was a dream, Mer."

"But so much of it was real – I mean, happened in real life. Your toast, you said that to me at the office party, word for word. That was true, wasn't it? And you didn't mean 'I love you like a friend', did you?"

Marshall finally looked at her, but didn't say anything. Just looked at her, much like he had that afternoon in the office.

"God, Marshall! Why didn't you tell me sooner? Before Raph proposed?!"

"I did- many times."

"Like hell you did! I would have remembered if you said, 'I'm in love with you, Mer'!" she cried.

Marshall shook his head at her. "That's what I meant in your dream, Mer. On some level you understood. I couldn't just come out and say that I was in love with you – you would have completely panicked! You would have run far away from me! I would have lost the best friend I've ever had. So instead I promised not to die – for you. I promised not to leave you like so many others have before. I promised you that I would stay."

The tears that Mary had been holding back began to slip down her cheeks and Marshall had to fight the feeling to lean forward and brush them away. "Then what was last night? Why were you pushing me away?"

"Can you try to look at things from my perspective for a minute? I'm madly in love with you – I have been for years. But I'd given up hope that you and I would be anything more than best friends and partners. I was trying to let go of my dream of a future with you; because that's all a romantic relationship with you could ever be – a dream, just pie in the sky," he finished softly.

"What did you say?"

"Pie in the sky; it means 'a fanciful notion, a ludicrous concept, or an illusory promise of a desired outcome that is unlikely to happen,'" he stated matter-of-factly.

"I know what it means, jackass, and who are you, Wikipedia?" She couldn't believe that for the second time in twenty-four hours that term was being thrown in her face. Why did it hurt so much more this time than the first? "Marshall, why do you think that a relationship with me is pie in the sky?"

He looked at her in disbelief. "Did you not listen to the definition, Mer? Do you need me to go over it again and use smaller words?"

She simply stared at him and waited.

"Because the idea of 'you and me' IS 'fanciful, ludicrous, and illusory'!" he exclaimed as he got up and began to pace. As he spoke he ticked off points on his fingers. "It's ludicrous from your point of view – the very idea of you seeing me as something other than your Doofus, trivia loving, slightly geeky partner is ridiculous! From my point of view – this is where the 'fanciful' part comes in! My wanting to be with you in a romantic way is the very definition of a 'fanciful notion'!" He collapsed into one of his easy chairs across from the couch and stared at the floor, refusing to meet Mary's eyes. Silence fell over the room and Marshall wondered bitterly if he had accomplished what he had set out to do last night – create emotional distance between him and Mary. She wasn't saying anything and for once, he had absolutely no idea what she was thinking. He was about to offer her a ride home when she spoke.

"What about the third definition, Marshall? What does that word 'illusory' mean, anyway?"

His head shot up in amazement. Mary was leaning forward on the couch and she seemed genuinely interested in his answer. "It's an adjective – it means 'deceptive, misleading, or false'."

Mary cocked her head and appeared to be considering the definition. "So, the third definition of pie in the sky is a 'false promise' of something you really want but is unlikely to happen?"

At his nod of confirmation, her face broke out in a grin and within a few seconds she was doubled over on the couch, laughing hysterically.

"Mer? What's so funny?" Marshall rose and joined her again on the couch. "I wish you'd share the joke with me because I could use a good laugh about now too."

Mary sat up and wiped the tears of laughter from her face. "Oh Doofus, don't you see?" she reached out and affectionately tousled his hair. "You and I aren't pie in the sky – Raph and I are!"

His look of confusion grew and Mary sobered quickly. "Marshall, Raph and I aren't engaged anymore."

"What?"

She nodded. "Last night, just before you texted me, we had this huge fight. He said the only thing that mattered to me was work – actually you. He asked me why I never wore his ring and got really mad when I didn't have an answer for him. He threw it across the room and said we were 'cake in the sky' – of course he meant 'pie'. Crazy Dominican still gets his idioms mixed up."

Marshall shook his head, trying to clear it. He'd never felt so confused. "I still don't see how you and Raph are the pie in the sky and not us."

"Raph wanted to marry me and gave me an engagement ring, even started planning our future – there's his desired outcome. I promised to marry him in a moment of weakness and have spent many moments since regretting the decision – there's the false promise. But the whole time Raph, me, and you knew that it was very unlikely that the marriage would ever take place. You chalked it up to your unrequited feelings for me and the misguided notion that we were pie in the sky. I just thought that eventually Raph would get fed up and leave me – they all do. But Raph-"Mary paused for breath and to laugh. "Only Raph could see what was really going on."

Marshall couldn't believe that he'd followed all that rambling over the wild beating of his heart. Did this mean she could possibly – he quieted the whisper of hope. "Mer, what did Raph see?"

Mary moved to straddle his lap and looped her arms loosely around his neck. "He said last night that he had thought for long time that it was only the job I loved and that was why I would never leave." She leaned forward and placed her forehead against his, drawing strength from him and willing herself to continue. There was no turning back now. She knew he loved her – but the feelings that he had awakened in her were still so new. In previous relationships when she had started to feel hints of something this strong, she was already running for the hills. Why was she not running now? She leaned back and looked into his eyes, smiling as she realized he was trembling as much as she. _Because this is Marshall – and I will not run from him; he's just as scared as I am when it comes to this relationship crap. _"Raph said that there's one person I'll never leave – and that person matters more to me than anyone else."

Marshall closed his eyes as her words washed over him. The whisper of hope was back and growing stronger. _She's talking about me, right? _His hands began caressing her arms, even as his eyes began to fill.

"Marshall?" She said gently, waiting for him to open his eyes again. "I realized at some point last night as I was lying in your arms that the reason I never wore Raph's ring is because I was already committed." She moved her hands from the back of his neck and cupped his face, making sure his eyes were locked with hers. Blue met green. "I've been committed to you for years. I just never realized how much until yesterday."

A couple of tears escaped and splashed down Marshall's cheeks. Ever so slowly Mary leaned forward in his lap and kissed each drop away. She was about to sit back when he took her face in his hands and brought their lips together. This time the kiss wasn't bruising like last night in the kitchen. This time the kiss wasn't about Mary trying to win a challenge. This time the kiss was soft, sweet, lingering, and full of promises of days to come.

When they broke apart, Mary sat back on his lap and opened her mouth but Marshall placed his trembling fingers against her lips and swallowed nervously. He had waited, dreamed of this moment for years. Now that it was here, he was literally terrified of what could happen. "I won't be your rebound, Mer. You've been in a relationship with Raph for over two years now and I think you need to make a clean break with him and take some time before – that is, if you want to-"he fumbled to a stop.

Mary placed her arms around his neck again and leaned in, dropping another soft, slow kiss on his lips. "You're trembling, Marshall."

He laughed. "You're surprised?"

She shook her head and slid off his lap. She rested her head on his shoulder as he slung an arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer to his side. "Marshall? I think I know what you were trying to do last night. You had to see if we could just be friends because I was marrying Raph – is that right?"

She felt him sigh into her hair. "Something like that. I didn't know what else to do, Mer. I had to see if I could bury my feelings deep and just be your partner. I thought you were still engaged."

"Well, I'm not. Or I won't be as soon as Raph and I have a chance to sit down and talk about everything. I suppose I can't avoid that conversation." She captured his free hand and held it tightly in hers. "You know, when we do start our relationship, you know you're not allowed to leave me, right?"

Marshall heard the tremor in her voice even though she tried to keep her tone light. She was still so much the little girl wounded by her father leaving her behind to raise a baby sister and clean up after an alcoholic mother. He silently cursed the man for abandoning his family, while at the same time he knew it was those same life experiences that had shaped Mary into the strong woman she had become. All her fire, passion, claws, and balls – combined with the little girl vulnerability that she hardly let anyone else see but him. God help him, how could he _**not**_ love a woman like that?

He placed two fingers under Mary's chin and tipped her head back so that their eyes met. He dropped a kiss on her brow and temple. Pulling back, he noticed how she lifted her face up almost imperceptibly and with a laugh he dropped a quick peck on her lips. He brushed the hair back from her face and said softly, "I'm not your father, Mer, or any of those other men who always leave. You shot me through the heart years ago – and I'm chained to your side."

Mary rolled her eyes and punched him in the opposite shoulder, making sure to miss the scar from Horst. "You are such a girl, Doofus! How can I take you seriously when you rattle off romantic drivel like that and you're wearing Yosemite Sam pajamas?"

"You love my wacky pajamas!" he crowed. "And that's another reason I'm not going anywhere – you're holding my Yosemite Sam T-shirt hostage!"

Mary smirked and looked down at the picture of Yosemite Sam holding a blazing shotgun in each hand on the front of her T-shirt. "Well if you'd just give in and hand over your pants, we wouldn't have a problem, Marshall Mann."

Marshall giggled and drew Mary closer to his side, breathing in her scent, safe in the knowledge that he could do it now and not get hit. "That's my girl," he murmured.

* * *

****The end? What do you all think? Marshall muse, Mary muse, and I have an epilogue - do you want it? You know what I want - Review please!****


	12. Chapter 12

_*****_**A/N: OK, so here's the deal: this was going to be the epilogue but a few of you actually wanted to see the break-up scene between Mary/Raph. So here's the LAST chapter before the epilogue - ENJOY!!**

* * *

"_Beauty queen of only eighteen_  
_She had some trouble with herself._  
_He was always there to help her -_  
_She always belonged to someone else._  
_I drove for miles and miles_  
_and wound up at your door_  
_Tap on my window knock on my door_  
_I want to make you feel beautiful."_

_--**She will be loved, by Maroon 5**

* * *

_

The next two weeks flew by and Mary had heard nothing from Raph since the night he fled her house after throwing her engagement ring across the room. She was secretly relieved – break up conversations had never been something she enjoyed having, whether she was on the receiving end or the giving, because they always ended badly. Serious conversations were something she generally avoided at all costs because of the emotions involved and ending relationships always resulted in very hurt feelings. She never knew what to say or how to let someone down gently. Letting someone down easy was not something Mary Shannon knew how to do – it was not something anyone had ever done for her, so why should she?

"Maybe he's run home to mama with his tail between his legs and I'll never see him again," Mary speculated as she and Marshall rode into the office on a Wednesday morning.

"You're awful," Marshall teased as he sipped his coffee with one hand and kept the other firmly on the steering wheel. "Are you sure your sister hasn't heard from him?"

"Brandi swears to me he hasn't called her – and Peter says she hasn't gotten any collect long distance phone calls while I've been at work so I guess that rules out my theory. Peter is kinda sore with me though, because Raph left him short on the job and he needed to find someone else bilingual on short notice to do those TV commercials."

"Aw honey, you missed out on the chance to marry somebody famous," Marshall drawled and ducked as her hand came at the back of his head.

"Idiot! Just what a WitSec inspector needs – to be married to a slimy used car salesman whose face is known all over the greater Albuquerque area on the TV stations. I think that might blow my low profile."

"So, is that going to be your tactful reason for not marrying him when you do talk to Raph?"

"Since when have you ever known me to use tact? That's what I have you for – I tell it like it is, I don't mince words or sugar coat things to our witnesses. And then when they look like they're going to have a panic attack or hyperventilate or get that look like a deer does when they get caught in the headlights of your car – that's when I turn to you. You put your hands out and you get this tone to your voice that's soft but firm and calms everyone down, including me."

Marshall looked over at her suspiciously. "Was that a compliment? What did they put in your coffee this morning?"

Mary smiled at him and shrugged. "Actually, I think it has more to do with the amount of sleep I've been getting lately. You're not the only one who hadn't been sleeping well, cowboy."

He cleared his throat nervously. "The last two weeks have been wonderful – we've both been sleeping like babies. But I think you should go home tonight."

"Why? Tired of me already?"

He heard the teasing tone but he noticed how her eyes wouldn't meet his. With a sigh he put his cup in the holder and grabbed her hand. "No Mer, I'm not. You're welcome to stay with me as long as you want. But – I meant what I said before. I want us to take things slow. If you're going to stay, you need to sleep in the spare bedroom. I'm a big boy, I think my nightmares are gone now," he finished softly.

"It's been two weeks, Marshall and nothing's happened. We've kept our hands to ourselves – mostly," she grinned lasciviously at him and felt a thrill of pride when he blushed. He pulled into a parking space and turned off the car and waited for her to continue. "God, Marshall you're the only one I've let hold –"she broke off as her cell rang and she stared at the caller ID in disbelief. "It's Raph," she whispered to him.

"Talk to him," he said as he unbuckled his seat belt and opened his door. "We'll continue this later."

* * *

_Wednesday night, 8:30 P.M., Joe's Bar N Grill_

Mary turned off the Probe and leaned her head against the steering wheel. _I really, really, really, really, don't want to go in there. Why am I doing this again? Oh right, Doofus told me that I have to end things with him before we can start anything. I suppose that isn't what I should tell him? "Hi Raph, how have you been? Here's your ring back – sorry to cut things short but I really have to go. Marshall's waiting in bed for me." _Mary laughed aloud. She had warned Marshall that she wasn't the tactful one and had even threatened to bring him along with her to break the news to Raph instead of her. But he had frowned and said that was 'rather poor taste, don't you think?' Besides, it had taken her a good twenty minutes of hunting on her hands and knees to find that damn ring tonight and she was going to give it back, in person.

Joe greeted her from behind the bar when she entered. He asked how Jinx was doing and Mary told him that she was still on the wagon.

"That's great! Tell her all the guys here say hello and we wish her the best."

Mary looked at him in amusement and nodded. _Great, just what my mother needs. Well wishes from a group of drunks. _Still shaking her head she approached the booth where Raph was sitting and was surprised to see that food and drinks had already been served.

"Mary, hi! I wasn't sure when you would be able to make it so I went ahead and ordered us the special – just like the old days," Raph smiled at her and leaned in to kiss her. Mary turned her head at the last minute so he kissed her cheek and she heard his sigh of disappointment.

Taking a seat across from him Mary said, "The old days? What are you talking about?"

"Remember when your mom worked here and we would come and have the weekly special? I used to think of this as 'our place'," he explained.

Mary tried not to choke on her sip of beer. "Seriously? 'Our place'? We ate here what – two, three times total? I think Marshall interrupted us all of those times with job stuff too. I mean, the food was okay and the price couldn't be beat because mom was working here at the time but –"she broke off awkwardly, not knowing what else to say. "So, where have you been for the past two weeks?"

"I've been around. I just needed to get to my head together – I'm sorry I didn't call you, let you know where I was. I'm sorry for leaving the way I did. I guess I thought we both just needed some space."

"Yeah, I was going a little stir crazy with everyone hovering after my shooting. I was so relieved to get back to work and out of the house."

"So how's work going? Are you still on desk duty?"

"Well, you know I can't tell you much – but I am easing back into my regular routine. The doctor has lifted the driving restriction and I can lift objects up to forty pounds. I can't run distances yet." Mary shrugged and began to eat some of her French fries.

"What about the last restriction?"

"You mean sex?" At Raph's nod, Mary smiled. "He said he'll probably lift that one in a week or two but not yet."

They ate in silence for a few minutes and just as Mary was reaching for her purse to get the ring, Raph's voice stopped her. "I have something for you."

Mary's stomach dropped as he placed a black rectangular jewelry box on the table in front of her. "Raph? What is this – I thought we were-"

"Please Mary, just open it."

With trembling fingers she popped the box open and stared in confusion at the gold rope chain. Her eyes darted up to meet his smiling brown ones. "It's for your ring, Querida."

_Aw hell, now what do I say?_ "Raph, I'm afraid I don't understand. The last time we were together, you threw that ring across the room. You said we were pie in the sky, you said that we were a dream, an illusion, that the only real thing about me was work."

"Mary, I am so sorry for saying all that. I was angry and hurt. You were thinking about Marshall and work so much that night and I didn't know where I fit into your life. But when I was away from you I realized that your family is just as important to you as your work and of course I want to be part of that."

_Shit! I'm going to kill Marshall for not coming with me tonight! Aw well, since he's not here I'll have to muddle through this the best I can. Screw tact!_ Mary set the jewelry box down and opened her purse. She pulled out the ring and set it on the table between them. "No Raph, you were right that night. We are pie in the sky. I came here tonight to give you back this."

"I was right? About everything? You're in love with Marshall?" Raph said softly, his voice hurt.

Mary's mouth remained closed. _I'm not ready to say those words to Marshall yet – and I'm sure as hell not going to say them to you first. _"Look Raph, I never meant to hurt you. Please try to believe that. There was a whole long list of people who saw this coming before I did, including you. I don't do the whole 'in touch with my feelings' thing very well," she finished sheepishly.

Raph smiled faintly and took a long drink of his beer. "So, can you at least tell me now why you never wore my ring?"

Mary winced. "I don't think you really want to know."

His eyes met hers over the rim of his cup. "Try me."

"I finally realized that I was already committed."

He smiled sadly and picked up the ring, placing it in his pocket. Toasting her silently he said, "I think you're finally getting in touch with your feelings, querida."

* * *

Wednesday night, 11:30 P.M., Marshall's house

Mary didn't hesitate this time when she turned the Probe off. She hurried out of her car and up his front walk and was just about to knock when the door was yanked open.

"Mer?" Marshall stood on the other side, dressed in his Yosemite Sam pajamas, and the sight was enough to make Mary want to throw her arms around him right then and there but she restrained herself.

"I tried you know," she explained, planting her hands on her hips. "I warned you that I don't have tact. But you kept telling me that I had to talk to him in person, that I owed him that much respect or something so I went. And I didn't really think it would be that bad, you know? Because of that huge fight we had that last night – I thought our engagement was already off! Silly me!" She was pacing back and forth on his small porch.

"Mer, come inside," he sighed.

"You told me to go home tonight and I tried to do that too. After the restaurant I went home and got in my pajamas and crawled in bed and I lay there and I stared at the ceiling. I wanted to be here with you but you told me to go home but then I thought well screw that, when did I ever start listening to you anyway? So I-"

Mary's words were stopped suddenly as his hands cupped her face and his lips pressed against hers. She whimpered softly against his mouth and she heard him chuckle but she didn't care. All she had been thinking about as she had been lying in bed was the absence of his arms, his chest, his scent, and now here he was and she could finally breathe again.

Marshall broke away from her lips and whispered against her cheek. "Come inside."

"What about your rules?" she arched her eyebrow at him.

He sighed wearily. "You and I need to talk – and then we're going to bed." At her lascivious grin he added firmly, "To sleep!"

She laughed and let him pull her into the house. He poured her a small amount of scotch and wrapped her up in his "Back to the Future" throw blanket on the couch. He sat across from her in one of his overstuffed recliners. He guided her back to the conversation with Raph at the restaurant – she told him about the chain and he winced at her directness of plunking the ring on the table.

"What was I supposed to do, numb nuts? I was afraid the idiot was going to propose all over again! At least he didn't put the chain in my food this time. Can you imagine if I'd bit into one of the French fries and then had to pull that out? Ew!"

Marshall laughed. "It does seem to be his M.O. – he likes the big, romantic gestures."

Mary stared down at her drink and sighed. "Why did you tell me to go home tonight? Did you need space from me, Marshall?"

She was so focused on the glass in her hand that she didn't even hear him cross the room until he was beside her, taking the glass from her and setting it on the coffee table. "Mer, I need you to listen to me. You are always welcome here. I will always want you here. I will always want you in my bed – and when the time is right, I will always want you as my lover. But we need time. You need time to get on your feet after Raph, to be by yourself for a bit. I need time to lay the partnership guilt surrounding your shooting to rest."

Mary considered his words for awhile, long enough that he was beginning to fidget and wonder what she was thinking. She looked up to see him nearly chewing his lip off and she smiled reassuringly. "Raph told me tonight that he thought I was finally getting in touch with my feelings. Remember when I first told you about my engagement and you asked me if I was happy and I said nothing?"

Marshall nodded and waited for her to continue.

Mary looked thoughtful and sad. "I don't remember anyone before you asking me that. I've never been happy – I don't know what it looks like. You always say 'tell me what you need' and you mean it! You really want to know." She placed one hand gently on the side of his face. "I know now when you say that you're really saying 'I love you'." She felt him shiver through her hand. "I think that the possibility of a relationship with you scares me the most because it has the greatest potential to make me happy. So with all of my commitment fears and insecurities, going slow sounds like a good plan to me," she finished softly.

He smiled one of his slow, lazy grins and gave her a quick peck on the lips. "I have a surprise for you."

She looked at him suspiciously. "I hate surprises."

"No you don't. Well – you'll like this one. Close your eyes."

"Oh, you're really asking for trouble, cowboy." But she complied. She listened as he scurried away, heard some rustling of paper in another room and then he was back.

"Okay, you can open your eyes."

Mary opened her eyes to see a gaily wrapped package in her lap and she glared at her partner. "What the hell is this?"

"It's a present – to celebrate new beginnings."

"You're such a girl!"

"I know – open it!"

She tore off the paper, lifted the lid and burst out laughing. Lying inside was a T-shirt of Yosemite Sam, with a blazing shotgun in each hand. The words "BACK OFF" in blazing letters were underneath him.

He leaned over and kissed her temple. "Now you have your own – and we match!"

"But where are my pants?"

"Oh, that's the best part, take the shirt out of the box," he said, struggling to keep a straight face.

She did and immediately doubled over in laughter. Underneath was a pair of cotton sleep pants with the words "pants are optional" printed all over them.

"Now, I know the pants don't have the cartoon character on them – but the color matches the shirt," Marshall managed to choke out amid his gasps of laughter.

"You are a wicked, wicked MANN!" Mary shrieked.

He caught her around the waist and pulled her into his lap. "Yes ma'am, but I'm _your_ man."

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****I hope you liked the break-up scene - and I HAD to write the pajamas one too! Some of you commented on that as well! Epilogue up tomorrow Please Review!!!!****


	13. Epilogue

***A/N: Here it is! We've come to the end of this saga! Grab your pie and your favorite topping: ice cream, whipped cream, etc. and dig in! I'm glad that so many of you liked the last chapter - that one was a surprise to me but it was one of my favorites to write! In honor of all the flashbacks that have occurred in this story, please note that this chapter is a Flash _Forward_***

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"I never knew just what it was about this old coffee shop I love so much

All of the while I never knew.

I think that possibly

Maybe I'm falling for you.

Yes there's a chance that I've fallen quite hard over you.

I've seen the waters that make your eyes shine-

Now I'm shining too."

_**--Falling in love at a Coffee Shop, by Landon Pigg

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_Maggie's Pie Shop, __**3 years later**_

Maggie looked up from behind the counter and smiled as the sound of her two favorite customers' voices reached her ears before they came into sight.

"Why is it when I do that exact same move I get a reprimand write-up in my file for using excessive force but when you do it, Stan looks the other way?" Mary stopped just inside the doorway and turned on her partner, lifting her chin to glare at him. She hated the fact that she was wearing heels and she _still _had to look up slightly in order to meet his eyes to give him a stare down.

Marshall put up his hands in self defense. "Well, maybe it's because I only do that particular 'move' as you call it once every six _months_ and not once every six _days_."

Mary lifted her purse for a swing at his amused face but Marshall easily dodged her attempt. "Weak, Mer."

Mary sniffed and replied to his earlier comment. "I have to do those 'moves' because I wear the pants in our partnership and you make me do all the heavy lifting. In fact, I'm surprised you're not rusty from lack of practice," she taunted.

Marshall's grin widened and he leaned down to whisper in her ear. "But, Mon petit Chou, you're forgetting all the practice I get in our bedroom." He leaned back quickly to avoid her backhanded swat, noticing with pride the quick flush that spread across her face. Clearing his throat, he stepped into the small shop and addressed Maggie for the first time. "Hi Maggie, how's business?"

"I can't complain, Marshall. People are always hungry for pie – are the two of you eating in or getting something to go?"

Marshall whipped out his blackberry and started to scroll through their appointments for the rest of the day when Mary's hand closed over his. "Relax, Doofus. We have time for a piece of pie. Grab a booth and try to decide what kind you want today – I have to visit the little girl's room."

Marshall slipped his blackberry into his back pocket as he leaned down to whisper in her ear, "You're no girl."

Mary swatted his behind. "Enough! Wait until I get you home," and she gave her hips an extra little sway as she walked away.

Marshall groaned and collapsed into the nearest booth. Maggie had to say his name three times before he finally focused on her. "I'm sorry – how long have you been standing there?"

Maggie laughed and leaned against the table. "I gotta tell you, Marshall. You two always acted like an old married couple before – but lately you act like newlyweds." She paused and was enormously satisfied when he blushed. "So, pie?"

When Mary returned to the table from the bathroom, Marshall was already halfway through his piece of peach pie a la mode. Her piece of chocolate peanut butter pie lay untouched across from him.

Sliding into the other side of the booth she picked up her fork and took a bite. She rolled her eyes in delight and noticed Marshall's eyes on her in satisfaction. "What if I wanted a different kind today?" she smirked as she placed another bite in her mouth.

Marshall snorted. "You wanted to come to Maggie's and not get your favorite pie? R-ii-gg-hht," he mockingly dragged the last word out. "But if you're looking for something different today." And he reached into his shirt pocket and plunked something small and shiny onto the table between them.

Mary's eyes widened in surprise as her fork dropped back onto the plate. "What is that?"

"Mer, are you feeling a little dim today? I think you know what it is – it's an engagement ring." He began to fidget nervously.

"I can see that. What is it doing there on the table? Are you trying to ask me something, cowboy?"

Marshall's palms began to sweat and his head was spinning and for a moment he seriously thought he was going to pass out. He had to consciously tell his lungs to take in air and the next thing he was aware of was Mary's hands caressing his face. When had she moved to his side of the booth?

"Doofus – are you all right? You're not going to faint on me, are you?"

Blue met green and he smiled. "Mer, I'm asking you to marry me. Over the past eight years we've become partners, best friends, lovers, roommates. I want us to be husband and wife."

She sighed and leaned her head against the back of the booth, closing her eyes. "You know I'm not the happily ever after girl, Marshall."

He leaned forward, pressing his lips to hers – gently, softly, and earnestly – and Mary was lost. Lost to this man who knew her better than anyone; knew the good, the bad, and the ugly and loved her anyway. She was lost forever to this man who had loved her and been by her side all along, in plain sight.

Marshall broke their kiss and leaned his forehead against hers, taking a moment to catch his breath. "I love you Mer, all of you. No one else knows you like I do – you've never let anyone else in like you have me. I'm your match in every way – professionally and personally. I'll be happy to spend the rest of my life by your side, going on as we are now, but I thought that you were starting to give me some signs that you might be open to this-" He was beginning to babble but he didn't know how to stop. She hadn't answered his question and was just looking at him – he hated it when she just looked at him without saying anything.

"You know I can't take you seriously when you start spouting romantic drivel like this, Marshall!" she teased.

He giggled. "At least I'm not wearing my Yosemite Sam pajamas too."

With a slight shake of her head and a laugh, Mary brought her lips crashing back to his. This kiss was pure Mary – fierce and passionate, a meeting of lips and teeth and tongues. But Marshall, who _was_ her partner in every way, met her halfway and was an equal participant.

When Mary broke the kiss a few minutes later, she laughed at Marshall's inability to speak. His mouth was opening and closing, trying to form words but no sound was coming out. She ate a few more bites of her pie while she waited for Marshall to recover his scattered brain cells.

"Was that a yes?" he finally whispered.

She turned back to him with a smile and used her left hand to cup his face. "You're trembling, Marshall."

"You're surprised?"

"I love it that after two years together I can still shut your pie trap and fry your brain. I hope that still holds true in twenty years."

Marshall grabbed her hands. "Is that a yes?" he repeated.

"Marshall, look at my hand," she instructed softly just as she saw the look of realization dawn on his face. He looked down at their clasped hands and saw the ring twinkling on her left ring finger. He laughed in pure joy and crushed her to him.

"You didn't do it right – I'm supposed to put it on your finger!" he pouted.

She clocked him on the back of his head, gently. "Idiot! You didn't do it right either – you're supposed to get down on one knee!"

He pulled away from her so he could look her in the eye as he sobered. "Do you want me to do it over?" he asked in all seriousness.

She rolled her eyes at him and nestled her head on his chest. "No, Doofus! You did it right – and this ring is never coming off my finger again."

"I love you, Mer."

"I know."

Maggie approached the booth with their check. "All right you two, break it up! This is a family establishment – save it for the bedroom!" she laughed.

Marshall blushed and tried to grab Mary's hand as he feared she was going to give Maggie the bird. Mary scowled at him and held up her left hand. "Look Maggie, Marshall gave me shiny!"

"Oh my God, you guys! Congratulations!" Maggie squealed and fell on them both, squeezing tightly. "I'll leave you to celebrate, just keep it PG! Oh, and I expect to be catering that reception!" At the couple's slightly confused looks, Maggie laughed again. "What, did you seriously think you were going to have _cake_?" She picked up Marshall's credit card and left to ring up the transaction.

"She's right – I want pie at my wedding." Marshall smiled in triumph as he finished his piece. "And so do you, if I remember correctly from a conversation we had awhile back in this very establishment."

Mary smiled at the memory of that day, remembering her amazement that he had described her dream wedding down to the last detail. _God, I really was blind back then. _She looked at the ring on her finger and then at the crazy man next to her. "So cowboy, what does your dream wedding look like?"

"You mean besides having twenty different kinds of pie? And you as the blushing bride?" he waggled his eyebrows at her.

'_Tell me again why we're not married.' _Her words from their conversation long ago echoed in her ears and she saw again in her mind's eye the flash of pain across his face that those words had caused. _I promise you Marshall, never to knowingly cause you pain, _she silently vowed.

She cupped his face in her hands and watched as the teasing light left his eyes and he went perfectly still, waiting for her. "You have me – I love you, Marshall." She leaned forward and kissed him softly even as she felt him shiver. When she pulled back he was still sitting perfectly still, with his eyes shut tight.

"Marshall?" she ran her fingers through his hair and he slowly blinked his eyes open. "Where did you go?"

"I'm here," he gave her one of his slow, lazy smiles. "I thought maybe you were saving those words for the wedding night," he said lightly.

"What words- Oh my God," she breathed. _I said that out loud?_ She ran her hands nervously through her hair only to have her ring get tangled in her locks. "Ouch, damn it!"

Marshall chuckled. "Hold still, let me help." He gently untangled the hair that had gotten wound around the setting and then held her left hand in his to prevent her from bolting. "You didn't realize you had said it out loud, huh?"

She smiled sheepishly at him and shrugged her shoulders. "No – but that doesn't make it any less true. I – I just don't say those words easily."

He began to play gently with the ring on her finger. "I know that, Mer. I know you, remember? I never needed to hear the words from your lips to know that you love me. Actions speak louder than words and your actions over the past two years that we have been together have said plenty about how much you love me."

"Doofus, you're speaking romantic drivel again," she warned.

"Right, sorry." Marshall sat up straighter and cleared his throat noisily. "So, are you going to finish your pie?"

"Hands off!" she picked up her fork and made a stabbing motion at him with it. "Get your own piece!"

Laughing, he signaled Maggie who not only brought their receipt, but his second piece of peach pie.

"So, seriously, you want twenty kinds of pie at our wedding reception?" Mary scoffed.

"What's wrong with that? Who doesn't like pie? Pie makes everything better," he was teasing her but his heart was singing inside because she had used the phrase 'our wedding'. "I'll let you carry your gun in your bouquet as long as you promise not to load it so you can't shoot the guests," he bargained.

"Deal. But no cream pies – I can just see you chasing me all over the room and planting my face in the pie and getting whipped cream all over my dress!"

Marshall dropped his fork in shock. "You're going to wear a dress for our wedding?"

Mary shrugged and popped the final bite of chocolate peanut butter pie in her mouth. She chewed slowly, making him wait for her answer. "I'd wear a dress – for you."

He blinked slowly. "I think I need you to pinch me."

"What?" she looked at him in disbelief.

"I think I'm dreaming."

"Idiot, we're both awake. But if you really need proof," and she pinched his upper arm.

"Ouch!" Marshall winced.

"Quit being a baby – I'll kiss it and make it better later," she smiled lasciviously and he blushed. "Finish your pie."

"Bossy," he said teasingly, shaking his fork at her.

Mary laughed and rested her left hand on top of his free one. With a smile of triumph, she caught her fiancé's eye and said, "So cowboy, I seem to remember a conversation we had awhile back about you thinking that a relationship between you and me was pie in the sky. What do you have to say for yourself now?"

_**--Fini--**_

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****Yum - delicious goodness! Thanks for reading and I would love to hear any and all final thoughts - please review!****


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